Faces
by Nan Smith
Summary: During this third of a trio following "Mystery" and "Getting to Know You," Lois and Clark try to keep their developing relationship on track while dodging tabloid "reporters" and trying to nail Intergang.


Faces  
By Nan Smith   
Rated:PG  
  
**********  
  
Disclaimer: The familiar characters and settings in this   
story are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros., December   
Third Productions and whomever else can legally claim them.   
The new characters and the story itself are mine.  
  
Faces  
By Nan Smith  
  
  
Perry White was worried.  
  
He stood at the window of his office, looking out at the   
newsroom where his star team of investigative reporters was   
currently working on a follow-up to the capture of Diana   
Stride, and the testimony of Michael DiSanto, the Mr. X who   
had been her partner when she worked as an assassin for   
Intergang.  
  
The unsupported allegation she had made at her arraignment,   
that Clark Kent was in actuality, Superman, had been   
virtually ignored by the responsible media and pounced on   
by the tabloids in order to sell their rags. And that was   
what worried Perry. With the others, he had laughed   
publicly at the statement, but he, alone--at least he hoped   
he was the only one--had realized that she was speaking the   
absolute truth.  
  
When he had heard the story, a thousand little pieces had   
clicked neatly into place in his mind and what hadn't made   
sense before suddenly added up perfectly. He wondered if   
Lois knew. It was probable that she did, he thought. She   
was his partner and if she hadn't figured it out on her   
own, he'd probably told her by now.   
  
Perry was aware that, from the early days of his   
employment, Clark Kent had been strongly attracted to his   
partner. Lois, on the other hand, had barely given Clark   
the time of day. More recently, the relationship appeared   
to have changed and that worried Perry a little. Office   
romances were a chancy thing and more than one great   
partnership had been a casualty of such a relationship.   
Still, there wasn't really anything he could do about it,   
except hope that things worked out.  
  
And then, they had returned from their weekend at the   
Mystery Mansion. Something was drastically different after   
that. He wasn't sure what it was, but *something* had   
happened that they weren't telling him, that was certain.   
He wondered now, if that was when Lois had discovered--or   
been told--the truth.  
  
He hoped they would figure out some way of dealing with   
Diana's bombshell. He'd ordered Security to throw that   
sleazebag from the Whisper--Leo Nunk?--out of the building   
twice in the last two days. The man left an almost visible   
trail of slime in his wake, Perry thought. He gave genuine   
reporters a bad name. Hell, he made other tabloid   
reporters look good in comparison and that took some doing.   
The trouble was, Nunk was like a weasel. He locked his   
teeth on something and didn't let go until he'd wrung every   
drop of sensationalism that he could from it. He was going   
to keep after Clark until Clark managed to discredit the   
allegation beyond the shadow of a doubt.  
  
Perry discovered that he was pacing, recalling a remark   
made by one of the members of the Planet's Board of   
Directors on the subject. He laughed along with the others   
and made a joke out of it, but it made him nervous. Still,   
there was an old saying: "Least said, soonest mended". He   
hoped it held true, but Clark had better watch his step   
while negotiating the inevitable pitfalls ahead.  
  
There wasn't much he could do to help unless Clark asked   
and that wasn't likely to happen. Perry wasn't even sure   
he wanted to let his top male investigative reporter know   
what he'd figured out. All he could really do would be to   
run interference if the opportunity or necessity presented   
itself.  
  
With that resolution in mind, he seated himself behind his   
desk and turned his attention to Ralph's latest scandal.   
Two paragraphs into it, he sighed and got to his feet.   
Ralph was by the coffee machine, hitting on Louise from the   
Planet's Food Section again, he saw as he opened the door   
to the newsroom.  
  
"Ralph!" he barked. "In my office--NOW!"  
  
**********.  
  
At that particular moment, Clark wasn't thinking about the   
nuisance presented by Diana Stride's allegation or by Leo   
Nunk of the National Whisper. As it happened, he was   
thinking about taking Lois to Sirino's that evening.  
  
"What do you think?" she asked him.  
  
"Huh? Oh, the article." He rested a hand on the back of   
her chair and leaned forward to read what she had written.   
"That's 'alleged' assassin," he pointed out. "Otherwise,   
it's good."  
  
Lois rolled her eyes. "Right. 'Alleged' it is, as if   
Perry wouldn't have spotted it. There. Happy?"  
  
He merely grinned at her. "How about dinner, tonight?" he   
inquired.  
  
"Okay," she said. "I've had enough of my own so-called   
cooking to last a long time--especially after eating your   
mom's food this last weekend."  
  
"Hey," Clark said, "I'll cook for you any time you like."  
  
She glanced up at him. "You don't have to try so hard,   
Clark. Really."  
  
"I know. But can I help it if I'm completely in love with   
you?"  
  
Her cheeks had turned slightly pink. "I guess not--only I   
still don't see why. You could have any woman in the world   
that you wanted. Why me? I treated you like dirt and   
practically swooned over Superman. I couldn't see the   
really wonderful guy working right next to me."  
  
Clark grinned. "But my sterling character finally won over   
all the obstacles," he said.  
  
She swatted him. "Right; joke about it. What time,   
tonight?"  
  
"Well, I have reservations for seven at Sirino's. Why   
don't I pick you up at six-fifteen?"  
  
"All right." She glanced around at Perry's bellow. "Looks   
like Ralph is in for it, again."  
  
"If it's about his latest article, he should be," Jimmy   
said. "I told him it wasn't a good idea but of course he   
didn't listen. Naturally, *I* have no idea what I'm   
talking about."  
  
Clark grinned. "Give it time, Jim. How are you feeling,   
these days?"  
  
"Pretty good." The young photographer made a face. "The   
incision scar on my back itches but the doctor says it's   
supposed to. I guess I got off pretty lucky."  
  
"Well," Lois said, "you're alive. I'd say that was lucky."  
  
"Good point." He turned his head at the yell of "Copy   
boy!" from the direction of the Sports editor. "Oops,   
gotta go. I'll have that stuff on Theodore Hurst for you   
by this afternoon, Lois."   
  
"Hurst?" Clark asked, as Jimmy headed for the Sports desk.  
  
"Yeah," Lois said. "Since we know the guy is some kind of   
boss in Intergang, I thought an investigation on him might   
turn up something we can use."  
  
"Not a bad idea," Clark said. "Got any ideas on that other   
thing?"  
  
"Sort of. Martha and I were talking about it, yesterday.   
She had kind of an idea--we'll just have to figure out how   
to set it up."  
  
"Care to let me in on it, or is it a secret?"  
  
"Later," Lois said. "When there's not so many people   
around. Here comes Louise."  
  
The junior member of the Food Section's two employees   
stopped by Lois's desk. "I've got those recipes you   
wanted, Ms. Lane."  
  
"Oh, thanks, Louise," Lois said, taking the sheets the   
young woman held out to her. "You're sure these are   
foolproof?"  
  
"Well, they're meant for a ten-year old," Louise said.   
"That's about as close to foolproof as you can get."  
  
"I guess that will do, then," Lois said. Clark had the   
feeling she was deliberately not looking at him. "Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome." Louise glanced at the window to Perry's   
office where Clark could see Ralph wilting under their   
editor's scathing monologue. "I better get back to work   
before Mr. White gets mad at me."   
  
When Louise had returned to her desk, Clark raised an   
eyebrow at Lois. "Recipes?" he asked.  
  
"Well," she said, a little defensively, "I thought it might   
be a good idea to learn some basic stuff."  
  
"I don't mind," he said with a smile, "but you don't have   
to if you don't want to, you know. I'm not asking you to   
make any changes."   
  
"Oh, I know. I just thought I could try something easy. I   
ought to be able to cook something besides macaroni salad   
and chocolate desserts."  
  
"Okay," Clark said. "If you need help learning to cook,   
though, I'm sure my mom would love to teach you."  
  
"I just might ask," Lois mumbled. She was looking over the   
recipes. "What's a tsp?"  
  
"Teaspoon," Clark said. "The capital T is for tablespoon."  
  
"I guess that's simple enough. My mother wasn't into   
cooking, much. At least, she never got around to teaching   
Lucy or me anything about it. To tell you the truth, I   
never even took Home Economics in school. Small engine   
repair was much more interesting."  
  
The door to Perry's office opened while she was talking and   
Ralph exited, looking pale. Without a word, he hurried to   
his desk, grabbed a notebook and headed for the elevator.  
  
"I wonder what that was all about," Lois remarked,   
distracted from the subject of cooking. She looked at him   
with a speculative expression. "I bet you could tell me."  
  
"Lois, Ralph was getting bawled out about something. You   
know I don't eavesdrop on things like that," Clark said.   
"Jimmy knows, though. You could ask him."  
  
"Sure, you do. You eavesdropped on Diana Stride, didn't   
you?"  
  
"That was different," Clark said, patiently. "Ralph isn't   
a criminal. He's just inexperienced."  
  
"With a talent for muckraking," Lois said. "He'd be a good   
replacement for Cat Grant."  
  
"Probably," Clark agreed. "But I didn't eavesdrop on Cat,   
either. At least, not when she was in trouble with Perry."  
  
"Do you have rules for everything?" Lois asked.  
  
"Well, when it involves ethics; yes," Clark said. "Think   
about it this way, Lois. Superman has to have unbreakable   
ethics. The minute he showed that his ethics might be   
negotiable, everyone would lose trust in him. With the   
kind of power he has, he can't afford for people to have   
any doubts. Look at Mayson Drake. She does have doubts--  
and I think that's really what's behind her dislike of   
Superman, not his alien origins."  
  
Lois looked thoughtful. "Yeah--I think I get it," she   
said, finally. "But Clark Kent isn't in the same position-  
-is he?"  
  
"Yes and no," Clark said. "What Superman does and what   
Clark Kent can do are two different things, but ethics have   
to be something intrinsic, not subject to convenience.   
Trust can't be negotiated; it has to be earned. My   
informants and sources wouldn't trust me if I didn't have   
my journalistic reputation. It's the same with you."  
  
"Yeah," Lois said, reluctantly. "But, that doesn't stop me   
from eavesdropping."  
  
"But you don't go gossiping about what you hear to   
everyone, do you? You keep it to yourself unless it has to   
do with criminal activity. So do I."  
  
She stuck her tongue out at him. "You're right, but I hate   
it when you're logical."  
  
He smiled. "I hope that doesn't mean you're backing out of   
dinner."  
  
She pretended to consider. "I guess not. I'll give you a   
chance to make it up to me."  
  
"That's a relief," Clark said. "It's a date, then."  
  
**********  
  
"Here's everything I could find," Jimmy said, some hours   
later. "If you need more, let me know."  
  
"Thanks, Jimmy." Clark accepted the printout Jimmy   
produced. "We know this guy is with Intergang--Superman   
heard him say so. We're hoping we'll find something in his   
background that we can use to get a line on the   
organization."  
  
"Well, just be careful," Jimmy said, seriously. "I'd hate   
to lose two of my best friends."  
  
"We will," Clark said, slightly surprised at his young   
friend's concern.   
  
Jimmy grinned nervously. "I hadn't really thought much   
about it before," he admitted. "I mean, the worst they   
ever did to me up until three weeks ago, was splash me with   
yellow paint. But after Diana Stride shot me, and tried to   
kill Superman--"  
  
"It puts a whole new perspective on things," Clark agreed.   
"We'll be careful, though. Intergang is one of the biggest   
criminal organizations in the world--even bigger than   
LexCorp was. They've got their fingers in every kind of   
corruption in just about every country. They didn't get   
that way by being careless, but this might be the key to   
finding out how they operate, and who's involved. Even   
Lois will want to go carefully on this one."  
  
Jimmy snorted. "Her idea of 'careful' two years ago was   
hiding in some drug dealer's back seat so she could follow   
him to his supplier's hideout. I'd just started work here   
a week before. She won her third Kerth for the   
investigation, but, wow--I don't know why she's still   
alive."  
  
"I'm just glad she is," Clark said. "Anyway, we're   
partners now. That might make a difference."  
  
Jimmy looked skeptical. "I hope so. Anyhow, let me know   
if you need any more stuff on Hurst. I went back ten   
years, but if that's not enough--"  
  
"I'm sure it'll do, at least to start with," Clark said.   
He glanced at the clock. "Oops, I have an appointment with   
a source in twenty minutes. I better go."  
  
"See you later."   
  
Clark took his overcoat from the rack, glancing around as a   
chime announced the elevator's arrival. He hurried up the   
steps as the doors opened and a tall, dark, slender man   
emerged, glancing around the newsroom with a familiar air.   
Courteously, he held the door for Clark.  
  
"Thanks," Clark said.  
  
"Don't mention it." The deep voice was tinged with a faint   
accent. "Is Mr. White in his office?"  
  
"I think so. It's that way," Clark said, pointing.  
  
"I know where it is. Thank you." The man gave the   
slightest of bows, and turned toward the stairs.  
  
**********  
  
Ten minutes later, Lois stepped out of the elevator,   
glancing around. Her gaze froze on the tall, dark man   
standing patiently by the door to Perry's office. Through   
the half-opened blinds, she could see Perry speaking to Jim   
Foxworthy, the Entertainment editor. Her gaze returned to   
the man waiting at his door. What was *he* doing here?   
She had last seen him five years ago and had fervently   
hoped never to set eyes on him again.  
  
As she watched, the door to Perry's office opened and Jim   
emerged. The man strolled casually past Jim and shut the   
door behind him. Lois glanced around, looking for Clark.   
He was nowhere to be seen. She looked back at the window   
to Perry's office in time to see the blinds close.  
  
Slowly, she turned to descend the ramp and make her way to   
her desk. Why was it that her partner was never around   
when she needed him? Glancing up at the monitors, she saw   
why. The dedication of the new Senior Center was in   
progress and Superman was cutting the ceremonial ribbon.   
He'd be back soon, but by then it would be too late to find   
out what was going on in Perry's office. Again, her gaze   
returned to the blank window of the Editor's office and she   
bit her lip. Life in the newsroom was going to be   
uncomfortable in the immediate future. For a moment, she   
was tempted to take the vacation that she'd been putting   
off for months, but finally rejected the option. Lois Lane   
never ran from a challenge. She wouldn't do it this time,   
either.   
  
**********   
  
Clark stepped out of the cab and walked briskly toward the   
entrance of the Daily Planet. Leo Nunk and his cameraman   
were waiting, of course; he'd been aware of that when he   
was still a block away. The guy would be taking pictures,   
so he made his posture as casually un-Supermanlike as   
possible, behaving as if he were completely unaware of the   
presence of the two tabloid snoops.  
  
As expected, as he approached the entrance, Nunk oozed out   
of his concealed position and blocked his way.   
  
"Clark!" he said, smiling. "We still haven't had time for   
that interview."  
  
"We're not going to, either," Clark said. He used the   
notebook he was carrying to prevent a close view of his   
face by the ubiquitous cameraman, as he would be expected   
to do. "Believe me, Nunk, if I could fly, I'd make sure   
you never got anywhere near me." With one hand, he   
signalled the security guard in the Planet's lobby. "Now,   
if you'll let me by, I have to get to work."  
  
The reporter from the Whisper didn't move. "Look,   
Superman, we both know who you really are. Why don't you   
just give up the game?" he inquired.  
  
Clark rolled his eyes in as close an imitation of Lois when   
she was exasperated as he could produce, but didn't answer.   
At that moment, two security guards emerged from the   
Planet's lobby.  
  
"Sorry, Mr. Kent," one of them apologized. "We were on our   
break. Look, Nunk, you and your buddy here better beat it   
or I'm gonna have you arrested for loitering. You give the   
place a bad name."  
  
Clark circled the men and made his way to the entrance.   
Nunk made a move to follow him but was stymied by the   
second guard, who stepped squarely in his way. Clark   
ducked through the revolving doors and gave a long sigh of   
exasperation. Bill, the snack vendor, grinned in sympathy.   
"Nunk giving you a bad time, Mr. Kent?"  
  
Clark glanced back at the four men. "He's just trying to   
manufacture a story."  
  
"Yeah." The man shook his head. "The guy's an idiot. My   
wife buys the Whisper, but I think it's a waste of money.   
It makes good lining for our parrot's cage, though."  
  
"Well," Clark said, "you never know. They could warn you   
about an invasion of the mole people when the powers that   
be ignore all the signs."  
  
"Oh, right. I'll remember that." The man chuckled and   
turned to a customer. "Can I help you?"  
  
Clark walked into the newsroom five minutes later. He knew   
Lois was here; had known it since he entered the building,   
as a matter of fact. He could also tell that she was   
upset. Her heart was thumping harder than usual and he   
could hear her familiar typing pattern as she punched the   
computer keys with unnecessary force. Unobtrusively, he   
descended the ramp and crossed to her desk.   
  
She didn't look up. Clark leaned quietly over her   
shoulder.   
  
"Hi, honey. What's the matter?"  
  
"Is it that obvious?" He could hear the tautness in her   
voice, despite the fact that she pitched it very low.  
  
"No. But I can hear things other people can't. What's   
wrong?"  
  
"You see that guy sitting at the table in Conference Room   
3?"  
  
Clark glanced obediently in the indicated direction.   
"Sure. He came in when I was leaving."  
  
"That's Claude."  
  
Clark frowned. "'Claude'?"  
  
"*The* Claude. The one I told you about."  
  
"The one who stole your story?"  
  
"The one I thought I was in love with," she clarified,   
baldly. "The one who--"  
  
Clark put a hand on her shoulder. "Lois, it doesn't   
matter. He had his chance and he blew it." He glanced   
back at the man in the conference room and made a quick   
policy decision. "Come on. Let's go talk somewhere a   
little less public."  
  
**********  
  
Perry watched from the haven of his office as his top   
investigative team talked quietly. He'd been aware that   
Lois was upset, although he didn't quite understand why.   
It seemed to be connected to the arrival of Claude Chabert   
and he dredged up what little he knew of Lois's   
acquaintance with the man.   
  
They had been co-workers when Claude had worked here, five   
or six years ago. Lois had been a brand new employee, but   
just as much of a workaholic then as she was, now. There   
had been the office gossip that he vaguely recalled about   
the two of them, right about the time the man had won his   
Kerth. Perry hadn't paid much attention to the talk.   
Chabert had left Metropolis shortly thereafter and returned   
to France and the Paris branch, where as far as Perry knew,   
he'd sunk into relative obscurity, certainly not fulfilling   
the promise he'd shown with his award-winning story.   
Still, it wasn't like Lois to let herself become upset over   
any man, colleague or not, unless it was Clark. He'd never   
actually given much credence to those rumors anyway.  
  
Still, something was wrong. He hoped Clark would be able   
to soothe down her ruffled feathers, because Chabert would   
probably be here for a few weeks, at least, judging by the   
story he'd told Perry.   
  
Perry remembered the incident well enough, of course.   
About a year ago, the Colombian government had been on the   
verge of arresting Juan Arista, the head of one of the   
biggest drug cartels based in Colombia. A few days before   
the planned operation, Arista had gone out on his yacht and   
died in a massive explosion that had taken the lives of   
everyone on board. No bodies of passengers or crew had   
ever been recovered. It was assumed that Arista had been   
the victim of one of his many competitors, or possibly even   
of his oldest son who had assumed leadership of the   
organization.  
  
Six weeks ago, Arista had turned up alive in France wearing   
a new name and face, with a new background and apparently   
running a legitimate business--which, of course, turned out   
to be a front to launder money and distribute drugs for his   
cartel, of which he was predictably still very much in   
charge. The man had been there for months, and only a   
freak accident had revealed his presence. The rest of   
Perry's information had come from Chabert.  
  
The French police, in cooperation with the FBI, had managed   
to discover Arista's last location before his arrival in   
Paris: Metropolis, of course. It was there that his new   
identity had emerged. That was why Chabert was in the   
Metropolis office today, and would be for the near future   
as well.  
  
As he watched, Lois rose to her feet, and Perry grimaced as   
he got a glimpse of her frozen expression. Storm clouds   
were brewing, that was for certain. Clark took her gently   
by the elbow and together the two of them headed for the   
elevator. Hopefully, Perry thought, Superman would be able   
to handle her, because no one else had a chance of dealing   
with Lois in her current mood. Things could get very dicey   
for the upcoming few weeks at the office if Clark wasn't   
able to smooth things over somewhat.  
  
Perry sighed. He never regretted becoming the Editor-in-  
Chief of the Daily Planet, but there were times when it   
gave him heartburn. Like today.  
  
Determinedly, he returned his attention to his computer.   
He still had to finish editing several more stories,   
including Lois's follow-up on Diana Stride. Hopefully,   
Clark had done most of that particular job for him. Even   
if he hadn't known the boy had been the editor of his   
hometown paper, Perry would have guessed that he'd been one   
somewhere. Once you'd been an editor of a newspaper, no   
matter how small, you never lost the instincts, he thought.   
Clark must have the newspaper business in his blood--which   
was funny, when you considered Superman hadn't even been   
born on Earth. For a crazy instant, he wondered if Krypton   
had ever had newspapers; then he dismissed the thought as   
absurdity and got down to work.  
  
**********  
  
Clark said nothing while the elevator bore the two of them   
to the parking basement. At least, he thought, Nunk and   
his shadow probably wouldn't be hanging out down here. He   
hoped the security guard would carry out his threat to have   
the guy arrested if he didn't leave, but didn't have much   
hope that it would keep the two away for long.  
  
Beside him, Lois shifted her weight off the athletic cast   
that she had been wearing since Friday. It made her   
considerably more mobile, but walking around with her bare   
toes sticking out the front didn't exactly thrill his   
partner. The weather wasn't particularly warm, yet. He'd   
suggested a sock to cover her foot, which was an   
improvement, but she wasn't going to be really satisfied   
until her ankle had healed.  
  
And now, Claude had reappeared. The man had romanced Lois   
and then betrayed her trust by stealing her story. That   
certainly didn't predispose him to like the guy much and   
his presence sure wasn't making Lois happy. Maybe it was   
time Superman did some detective work and found out just   
why he was here. The sooner he left, the better it would   
be--for all of them.  
  
"I'm sorry, Clark," Lois said, suddenly. "I was determined   
I wasn't going to let it get to me."  
  
"Lois, it's all right. You were in love with him and he--"  
  
"No," she said.  
  
"But you said--"  
  
"I was never in love with him, Clark. After I fell in love   
with you, I saw the difference for the first time. He was   
older than I was and I was dazzled that such a handsome,   
sophisticated man would find me attractive--but I wasn't in   
love with him. And then, he stole my story." She grimaced   
wryly. "I never told anyone until I met you--not even   
Perry. I knew no one would believe me if I told the truth-  
-I was a rookie; Claude was an established journalist. He   
used my crush on him to get what he wanted and when I   
confronted him, he told me that all was fair in journalism,   
and he'd done me a favor--that I should learn a lesson from   
it: to trust no one. I never forgot."  
  
"I know. You told me the same thing. I hope you know now   
that he was wrong."  
  
She nodded. "I don't know how you ever forgave me for   
doing what I did to you--I used your trust to steal your   
story, just like Claude did to me."  
  
"Well, not quite."  
  
"The principle is the same. At first, I couldn't   
understand why I felt so guilty. But after you paid me   
back, I realized what a--a terrible thing I'd done and that   
I deserved everything I got. That was why I came back to   
the office instead of just going home. And when you   
admitted that you set me up, I realized I didn't want to   
fight with you. That was when I started to respect you."   
She stared at her feet. "I think one reason why what   
Claude did hurt so much was that I realized he didn't   
respect me at all."  
  
The elevator doors slid open and they stepped out together.   
Clark lowered his glasses, glancing around for any sign of   
Nunk, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, they   
walked toward the entrance to the garage.  
  
"I respect you, Lois," he said, quietly. "Everyone in the   
newsroom does--even Ralph, believe it or not. You're the   
best journalist I've ever known. And Claude had to have   
some respect for your writing or he wouldn't have thought   
stealing your story was worth it--although I'm sure that's   
cold comfort."  
  
"He might have thought the story was good," she said, "but   
he didn't respect *me*. He didn't even apologize." She   
paused. "I guess I never did, either, did I? I'm sorry,   
Clark. I know that it's nearly two years too late, but I   
*am* sorry."  
  
"I think that's water under the bridge," he said. "Don't   
keep beating yourself up over it, honey. It isn't   
important."  
  
"Yes, it is," she said. "I don't want to be in Claude's   
class. What I did put me in it. I didn't think so at the   
time, but I owed you a lot for showing me it was something   
I didn't want to be."  
  
"Lois, you could never be in his class." He stopped   
walking and turned to face her. "Is that why you're so   
upset?"  
  
"That's part of it," she said. "When I saw him, it all   
came back and I saw that I'd done the same thing to you   
that I hated when he did it to me."  
  
"There's a difference," Clark pointed out. "You were   
ashamed of what you did. He never was."  
  
"I guess." She scuffed the athletic cast on the rough   
concrete of the garage. "Another part of it was the gossip   
about us. Things like that get around, you know."  
  
"People like scandal," Clark said. "Remember the rumors   
about Cat and me? No one would believe me when I told them   
it wasn't true--not even Jimmy or Perry."  
  
"Claude didn't deny it," Lois said. "He embellished it.   
It was just that one time, Clark, I swear it--but you'd   
never have believed it if you heard the gossip."  
  
"I believe you," he said. "Lois, you don't owe me any   
explanations. It doesn't matter, really."  
  
"I know," she said. "It was pretty horrible at the time,   
though. Anyway, Claude went back to France, and after a   
while the gossip died down. But, now he's back."  
  
They had started to walk toward the entrance again. As   
they emerged into the street, Clark glanced quickly around,   
but Nunk was nowhere to be seen. He was probably still   
hanging around the entrance, he thought. "Lois, the   
situation is different, now," he said. "You have a   
reputation as a brilliant journalist--and three Kerths   
under your belt. I doubt Claude can say the same. If he   
tries to revive any of the old rumors, just treat him like   
you do any jerk who thinks he can patronize you. You sure   
put Pat Barrington in his place at that last press   
conference we attended. Do the same to Claude."   
  
She appeared to think that over and finally nodded.   
"You're right. You're absolutely right."  
  
"Of course I am." Clark kept his voice light, not wanting   
her to see how angry the whole thing had made him. Claude   
had some things to answer for, that was certain.  
  
"Where are we going?" Lois asked, unexpectedly.  
  
"I thought we'd drop by Rita's Cappuccino Corner," Clark   
said, nodding at the small establishment halfway down the   
block. "It's a little too far to walk to the Fudge Castle.   
I figured you could use some cafe‚ mocha, and maybe a hot   
fudge sundae."  
  
"You're right about that. How come you always know what I   
need?"  
  
Clark grinned. "It doesn't exactly take a detective.   
You've had a lot of things to put up with for the last few   
weeks."  
  
"It's not so bad," she said. He raised an eyebrow.   
"Well," she amended, "it's been inconvenient."  
  
"Inconvenient?"  
  
Lois glanced at her ankle. "Okay, it's been a royal   
nuisance. I'll be glad when I'm through with this thing,   
too. It figures that my car would be on the fritz today.   
I can't figure it out. It worked fine on Friday."  
  
"I have my suspicions about that," Clark said.   
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Would you put it past Nunk or one of his 'colleagues' to   
sabotage your Jeep to see if Superman would fly you to   
work?"  
  
"Not for a minute," Lois said. "That's why you wanted to   
take a cab this morning."  
  
"That's why."  
  
"We really have to do something about those parasites."  
  
"Well, you said you and Mom were working on something."  
  
"Did you see that holographic art project of hers while we   
were in Smallville?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"I think we can use it."  
  
"A hologram, you mean?"  
  
"Yeah. We've got to work out some details; we can't have   
anyone trying to touch the hologram or something."  
  
"Not a bad idea..." Clark turned his head sharply. "Talk   
about a bad penny."  
  
"What?"  
  
"See that van that just came around the corner?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"The guy at the wheel is Nunk's cameraman."  
  
"Great." Lois grabbed his elbow. "Come on, let's get   
inside Rita's. I'm not going to let that scuzzball cheat   
me out of my sundae."   
  
Fortunately, Rita's was only a few feet away by now. By   
the time Nunk and his cameraman appeared in the doorway,   
Lois and Clark were seated in a booth near the back of the   
room and a teenager in a white outfit was taking their   
order. Lois glanced at the two and sighed. "Clark, guess   
who's here?"  
  
Clark turned, rolled his eyes and turned back. Nunk and   
his companion moved up to the table and the cameraman   
raised his camera. Clark put the menu in front of his   
face. Lois did the same. "Go away, Nunk."  
  
"Here's your ice water, Ms. Lane." The teenager was back,   
carrying a large pitcher of water. Chips of ice tinkled   
softly against the glass. "'S'cuse me, sir." He squeezed   
past Nunk and appeared to stumble. "Oops!"  
  
Ice water cascaded over Nunk's shirt and the front of his   
slacks. The teenager scrambled to his feet. "Sorry,   
dude!"   
  
"You idiot!" Nunk brushed vainly at his shirt and swore.   
An ice chip slipped down inside his collar.  
  
"Hey man, I said I'm sorry!" The boy looked offended.   
  
Lois handed the red-faced man a paper napkin. "Here.   
Maybe this will help."  
  
The cameraman had managed to escape all but a few drops of   
the water. Clark could have sworn he was struggling to   
hide a smile, but an instant later his face was completely   
sober as he helped his boss remove his soaked jacket. Nunk   
wiggled out of the dripping garment, still swearing. "I   
demand to see the manager!"  
  
The teenager didn't look particularly worried. "She's in   
the office. I'll call her, sir."  
  
When the two men had finally gone, Lois looked up as the   
manager approached the table. "Thanks, Sharon."  
  
"You're welcome. I've been waiting for a chance to pay Mr.   
Nunk back ever since he wrote that so-called 'health   
expose' about our shop. We do *not* have 'mutagens',   
whatever they are, growing in our coffee machine!"  
  
"Or Benjamin Franklin in your blender," Lois said, drily.   
She glanced around as the teenager appeared behind his   
boss. "Thanks, Danny. Here's the twenty I promised you."  
  
The boy grinned. "Any time, Ms. Lane. I'll have your cafe‚   
mocha and sundae ready in a few minutes."  
  
**********   
  
It was nearly five by the time they got back to the Planet.   
Claude was nowhere to be seen, a fact Clark regarded with   
some relief. Meeting the man, as he would probably have to   
do, tomorrow, was not something he anticipated with any   
pleasure. Clark tidied his workspace and shut down his   
computer in preparation for leaving, aware that Perry was   
watching them unobtrusively from his office.   
  
After walking Lois home, Clark continued on toward his own   
apartment on foot. Behind him, he could hear the heartbeat   
of the tail that they had picked up when they left the   
Planet. He had been fairly sure that the man was following   
him, not Lois, and when the sound of the heartbeats   
continued after he had dropped her off, he was certain of   
it. Walking briskly, he kept track of the man, making sure   
never to outpace him or to let him become aware that his   
quarry knew he was there.  
  
At his apartment door, he clumsily fumbled his door key and   
dropped it deliberately, then spent thirty seconds or so   
looking for it, before he retrieved the article and   
unlocked his door.  
  
At once, he was aware that his apartment had had a visitor.   
Some of his possessions were not quite where he had left   
them, and the scent of the intruder's cheap cologne   
lingered faintly in the air. The scent was familiar: it   
was the same one he had smelled on Leo Nunk, earlier in the   
day.  
  
Clark smiled grimly to himself, looking covertly around the   
place with his super-vision as he had done every time he   
entered his apartment since the tabloid surveillance began.   
He had no illusions about the sanctity of his home where   
tabloids were concerned.   
  
Sure enough, there were two cleverly concealed listening   
devices, one on the underside of a bookshelf in his living   
area and one on the base of the reading lamp in his   
bedroom. Well, that was easily handled. Whistling, he   
walked into the bedroom, located a rock station on the   
radio sitting on his nightstand next to the lamp and turned   
it on full blast. If any listener could discern anything   
over that, he had better hearing than Superman.  
  
An examination of his closet told him that the intruder had   
rifled through his clothing as well, but there was nothing   
to find there. Clark had taken special care this morning   
to be certain the secret panel in the back could not be   
opened by accident. Still, the man's behavior was becoming   
more than just an irritation. It was really too bad he   
didn't have any concrete evidence of Nunk's trespass. He   
could have had him arrested and charged with breaking and   
entering.   
  
He paused for a moment, and his eyes narrowed at the   
thought. Normally, he would have let the whole thing pass   
but he'd become convinced over the last week, ever since   
Nunk's pursuit of him had started, that the man stood in   
dire need of a sharp lesson. What it might entail, Clark   
had no idea yet, but he'd think of an appropriate one,   
eventually.   
  
Well, he had a date with Lois to prepare for. Maybe they   
could discuss the problem over dinner.   
  
He went into the bathroom and began to undress at normal   
human speed. The man following him would notice if he   
managed to prepare for his date too quickly; he had no   
doubt of that, so he would just have to make sure that   
nothing seemed out of the way at all. Whether it was Nunk,   
or one of his co-workers at the Whisper--or even some other   
so-called journalist from one of the other tabloid rags--he   
was about to be treated to a very dull evening. At least,   
Clark reflected while pouring shampoo in his hair, it would   
be dull from an outsider's perspective. He had no   
intention of his date with Lois being dull in any shape,   
fashion or form.   
  
Ready at last, he glanced at his watch. He had just twenty   
minutes to walk over to Lois's apartment. Her Jeep   
wouldn't be ready until tomorrow morning, so they would   
have to call a cab from her place. Calmly, he switched off   
the radio and left the room.   
  
His tail was still there, he noted as he locked the door to   
his apartment. In fact, he spotted the man standing in the   
shadow of a doorway across the street. It was the   
cameraman, and he still held his camera. Clark started   
briskly up the street toward Carter Avenue.  
  
Tony's was still selling flowers and he stopped to buy a   
bouquet for Lois, then proceeded on, whistling softly,   
until he reached her apartment house. Without a glance in   
the direction of the cameraman, he entered the building and   
rang for the elevator.  
  
When he knocked at the door, Lois's voice called, "Just a   
minute, Clark!"  
  
He waited. He could hear her footsteps inside and a moment   
later, the door opened. Clark almost stopped breathing.   
  
Lois looked spectacular; that was the only description he   
could think of. She wore a simple, low cut black dress   
that hugged her curves. A string of milky pearls and a   
pair of pearl earrings set off the dress and her hair and   
makeup were perfect, as well as quite different from her   
professional style at work. The changes might not be all   
that great, but somehow the combination was enough to   
dazzle him. Or, maybe it was just the expression on her   
face. She looked a little nervous, but she was smiling.   
"Hi, Clark. I'm almost ready. Come on in."  
  
He obeyed and shut the door behind him. "Here, I got these   
for you."  
  
"Oh." She took the flowers. "They're beautiful, Clark.   
Thank you."  
  
While she went to put the flowers in water, he lowered his   
glasses and scanned the apartment, half-expecting to find   
it bugged.  
  
It was. There was one under the edge of the coffee table   
and another in her bedroom. An unexpected, cold anger took   
hold of him. It was one thing for Nunk to harass him, but   
to go after Lois as well was too much. The man was going   
to pay for this.  
  
Lois re-entered the room. "I guess we can go. It's too   
bad my car is still in the shop."  
  
Clark picked up the note pad by her telephone and scribbled   
a message at super speed. She raised her eyebrows, but the   
expression of surprise vanished when she read the message.   
She glanced around, questioningly.  
  
Clark silently indicated the listening device. "Do you   
want to call a cab or do you just want to take the chance   
of flagging one down?"  
  
"I guess you better call. Let me get my wrap."  
  
Outside the apartment a few minutes later, she finished   
locking her door and fastened the deadbolt as well. "Don't   
tell me--Nunk?"  
  
"Probably," he said. "I smelled his cologne in my place   
and his cameraman followed us from work and trailed me over   
here."  
  
"I think I've had it with that guy," she said. "Do you   
suppose he's going to follow us around for the whole   
evening?"  
  
"Probably. Nunk's behind it, though."  
  
"I don't know why someone hasn't murdered him before this,"   
Lois said. "He can't even leave us alone on our date.   
He's going to pay for this."  
  
"That's for sure," Clark said. He rang for the elevator.   
"In the meantime, let's just go to dinner and ignore our   
shadow. I can't imagine anything more boring than watching   
somebody else's date."  
  
Lois nodded. "Good idea."  
  
"It's too bad I couldn't take you dancing," he said. "Once   
your ankle's healed, we'll do that, too."  
  
"I liked the kind of dancing you showed me, that night in   
my apartment," she said. "Dancing on air. Unfortunately,   
we can't do that either, as long as Nunk and his flunky are   
bothering us."  
  
"Well, hopefully we can deal with that in the near future,"   
he said. "Until then though, we're just going to have to   
behave like any other normal couple. And, we can always   
plan our revenge on Nunk in the meantime. Nothing harmful,   
just humiliating and inconvenient."  
  
"Speak for yourself," Lois said. "I'm thinking in terms of   
boiling in oil."  
  
**********  
  
"I had a wonderful evening, Clark," Lois said. They stood   
in front of her apartment door. A glance at his watch on   
the way up in the elevator had told him that it was nearly   
midnight.  
  
He smiled down at her. "So did I."  
  
"Would you like to come in?" she asked. He hesitated,   
recalling the bug, then nodded. The listener or listeners   
would expect it. He followed her inside.  
  
Lois gestured to the sofa. "Sit down and I'll get you some   
coffee."  
  
Clark smiled. "I've had enough coffee." He moved closer   
to her. "It seems like we never have time just to relax   
together and enjoy each other's company. I had a great   
time."  
  
She let him slide his arms around her and lifted her face   
to his. Taking that as an invitation, Clark kissed her.  
  
After an interval during which time seemed to stop, he   
pulled his face back about an inch. "I love you, Lois."  
  
"I know." She brushed her fingers across his cheek. "I   
love you too, Clark. When I think of all the time that I   
spent hero-worshipping Superman, I could kick myself. Why   
I was so stupid as to want someone who belongs to the whole   
world when I had someone like you working right next to me,   
I have no idea."  
  
He kissed her again, more slowly. "I'm not complaining."   
A third kiss followed. "I have you now and Superman   
doesn't."  
  
Lois didn't answer, but merely kissed him again.   
  
When he left, twenty minutes later, it was with great   
reluctance and the knowledge that if he hadn't left then,   
he probably wouldn't have at all. It was just as well, he   
thought, that they had both been at least peripherally   
aware of the listener or things could have easily gotten   
carried away. They had been careful about what they said,   
though. Nunk and his cronies would have no idea that he   
and Lois knew the bugs were there. There had been a   
certain amount of acting involved, but not much. Tomorrow   
they would take care of the things and the ones in his   
apartment, too.  
  
**********  
  
Clark was awakened early the next morning by the ringing of   
his phone. Blearily, he glanced at the clock on his   
nightstand. The device informed him blandly that it was   
five a.m. Still half asleep, he fumbled for the receiver.   
"H'lo?"  
  
"Clark?" Lois's voice said, and something in her tone   
brought him awake. "Perry just called me. There was a   
breakout at the Metro Detention Facility two hours ago."  
  
A sense of foreboding tugged at him. "Who?"  
  
"Diana Stride," Lois said. "She apparently had outside   
help."  
  
"Probably Intergang," Clark said.  
  
"Probably."   
  
"Look, make sure your doors are locked. I doubt she'll try   
anything against you. The DA has your deposition and she's   
going to be too busy hiding from the police, anyway." He   
glanced at the bug stuck unobtrusively to the base of his   
reading lamp, picking up every word he spoke. "Do you want   
me to come over?"  
  
"No, I just thought you should know what happened. The   
police are setting up roadblocks, looking for her. My bet   
is she's already gone to ground and no one's going to find   
her. At least, not tonight."  
  
"You're probably right," Clark agreed. He glanced through   
the wall at the figure of his tail, still doggedly parked   
on the steps of the deli across the street and two doors   
down the block. It figured that Nunk would assign somebody   
else for the duty. The cameraman was huddled in an   
overcoat, his head drooping sleepily. Nunk, himself, was   
probably sound asleep in bed, he thought. He couldn't do   
the job he did if he were very concerned about the feelings   
or comfort of other people.   
  
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked Lois.  
  
"I'm sure, Clark," she said. "I'll see you in the   
morning."  
  
"All right. G'night." He waited until she hung up and set   
down the receiver. Thoughtfully, he turned off the bedside   
lamp and sighed. If he left to help in the hunt for Diana   
Stride, whoever was listening would probably know it. He   
didn't think he snored, but the bug had almost certainly   
been placed where it was to pick up the sounds of his   
breathing and alert the listener if he left.  
  
He told himself Lois was probably right. It had been two   
hours since the breakout. Diana had undoubtedly gone to   
ground by this time so in that context, there was no   
immediate need for him to leave but it wasn't likely that   
he was going to get any more sleep tonight, anyway. He was   
too wide-awake. It was just as well that he'd never needed   
as much sleep as most people.  
  
After a few moments, he got out of bed and padded barefoot   
into the living room. Turning on a low light on his way,   
he grabbed the remote and turned on the television.  
  
An infomercial touting the benefits of SuperCreme,   
guaranteed to melt inches off the waistline, met his gaze.   
He switched channels to a Metropolis news station but an   
advertisement for some kind of breast enlargement product   
was showing, followed by one for bail bonds. He flopped   
down on the couch, waiting impatiently.  
  
When the news broadcaster came on, the news concerned the   
peace talks going on between two small countries that had   
been scrapping over their mutual border for centuries. He   
rose from the couch and went into the kitchen to make tea.   
Minutes later he was back, sipping the vigorously steaming   
liquid. The local weather forecaster was predicting cool,   
breezy conditions for tomorrow with scattered showers,   
heavy at times and a 20% chance for a thunderstorm.   
  
At last, the subject turned to local news. The picture   
switched to the inside of a building, numerous uniformed   
police coming and going and a small knot of reporters   
surrounding a grey-haired, harassed-looking man. A voice-  
over informed the viewers that the former host of Top Copy,   
Diana Stride, now believed to be an international assassin   
for Intergang, had escaped. The Metropolis Detention   
Facility where she was currently being held had been   
infested with noxious fumes that forced the evacuation of   
the building and when the air had been rendered breathable   
again and the prisoners rounded up from the exercise yard,   
it was discovered that Diana Stride was gone.  
  
Clark finished his tea and glanced at the living room   
clock. The time was now a quarter to six, almost time to   
get up, anyway. He might as well shower and prepare for   
work.  
  
He was just stepping out of the shower, ten minutes later,   
when the phone rang. This was probably the one he'd been   
expecting.  
  
He padded across the bedroom and picked up the receiver.   
"Hello?"  
  
"Clark? It's Lois again. Check your apartment. I just   
found something that looks like a bug in my living room."   
  
It was the call they had planned last night at dinner.   
"Lois, slow down. What kind of bug? A cockroach?"  
  
"A microphone. A listening device! Actually, two of them.   
There's one in my bedroom and after I looked around, I   
found another one in my living room. I'm going to look   
again before I go to work and see if I can find any   
others."  
  
"Nunk," Clark said. "Thanks for the heads up, Lois...well,   
well, what do you know? There seems to be something   
sticking to my lamp. You know, I think I'm getting a   
little upset with Mr. Nunk."  
  
"You and me, both. We'll talk about it when you get here."  
  
"It'll take me about twenty minutes. Don't forget to look   
around. You might call for Superman and have him check the   
place."  
  
"I don't want to bother him; he might be busy. I'll see   
you soon. Love you."  
  
"Love you, too." Clark hung up and spoke to the   
microphone. "The game's up, Nunk."  
  
He pulled the listening device off his lamp, dropped it on   
the floor and crushed it with his bare heel.  
  
**********  
  
Twenty minutes later, Lois was waiting for him when he   
knocked. They rode the elevator down and began their walk   
to work.  
  
"I'm supposed to call about the Jeep," Lois said. "My   
mechanic said it would be ready this morning."  
  
"I hope so," Clark said. "In case you're wondering, we   
still have a tail. Somebody I've never seen before   
replaced the other guy just before I started over here."  
  
"I wonder if we could get an injunction against the Whisper   
for harassment," Lois said.  
  
"Maybe, but I doubt it. We'd have to present evidence it   
was their people who planted the bugs and are following us   
around. There's no law against their using the same street   
as us."  
  
"Yeah. Well, let me think about it," she said. "There   
must be something we can do until we work out how to set up   
the other thing."  
  
"Just don't break any major laws, okay?" he said.  
  
"I'll do my best. Oh, by the way, did Jimmy ever get back   
to you with that information on Theodore Hurst? I never   
thought to ask, what with Claude showing up, and Nunk   
bothering us."  
  
"Yeah, he did. I didn't have a chance to look at it. I   
was going to dig it out when I got back from the ribbon-  
cutting ceremony, but it kind of slipped my mind. It's in   
my desk."  
  
A short time later, they approached the Planet. As might   
have been predicted, Leo Nunk was waiting on the corner.   
He started toward them with a smile. "Lois, Clark."   
  
The two reporters looked at each other and then Lois put   
two fingers in her mouth and produced a shrill, loud   
whistle. People turned to look, including a Planet   
Security officer who was approaching the front door of the   
building. Instantly, he hurried over to the two reporters.   
  
"Ms. Lane, Mr. Kent. Is Mr. Nunk bothering you?"  
  
"He sure is," Lois said. "Could you do something about   
him, please?"  
  
"No problem." The man turned to the tabloid reporter.   
"Scram, Nunk. If I see you hanging around here today, I've   
got orders from my boss to have you arrested for   
loitering."  
  
"You can't hide forever, Superman," Nunk said.   
  
Clark sighed. "Have you ever heard the old saying about   
barking up the wrong tree, Nunk?"  
  
"Come on, Clark," Lois said. "Unlike Mr. Nunk, we've got a   
job to do. Thanks, Don."  
  
The security man nodded. "No problem, Ms. Lane." He   
folded his arms and stared at Nunk. "Just what part of   
'scram' didn't you understand, pal? Beat it!"  
  
**********   
  
When they entered the newsroom a few minutes later, Lois   
glanced around nervously. She knew she shouldn't; that as   
far as she was concerned, Claude Chabert should be just   
another, not very important colleague, but she couldn't   
help feeling slightly on the defensive where he was   
concerned. Clark must have noticed because he put one hand   
lightly in the small of her back in an almost possessive   
manner. She found the gesture oddly reassuring.   
  
Claude was nowhere to be seen this morning and she recalled   
that when he worked here, he had never been one for early   
arrivals.  
  
Perry was already here, as might be expected, and others   
were still arriving. As they turned toward the ramp, the   
stairwell door opened and Jimmy Olsen emerged, a large box   
of what were probably doughnuts in his hands. He went past   
them with a hurried greeting, descended the ramp and   
crossed the Pit toward Perry.  
  
Lois and Clark followed at a more sedate pace.   
  
"I'll get our morning coffee while you get set up," Clark   
said. "Then I'll find that stuff on Hurst."  
  
"Bring me a doughnut, would you?" Lois said. "All I had   
this morning was black coffee."  
  
"Sure," Clark said. "What kind?"  
  
"I don't suppose they have low cal doughnuts, do they,"   
Lois said. "How about one with icing?"  
  
"Icing it is." Clark said. A few moments later he   
returned with the promised items. Lois took her cup   
carefully from the hand that held both cups and freed the   
requested doughnut from the other. Clark was left with his   
own. He went over to his desk, set them down and opened a   
drawer, hunting for the printout, licking sticky icing from   
the fingers of his left hand as he did so.   
  
"You know," he said, laying the paper on her desk, "it's   
just barely possible that this might give us some kind of   
lead on Diana. He was her contact before she was arrested.   
He might be the one that handled her escape."  
  
"I was wondering about that," Lois said. "Let's see--he   
arrived in Metropolis three years ago. Well, we know from   
our research on Intergang that they move into an area   
gradually and prepare the ground before Cost Mart arrives.   
At least, that's the pattern they've shown in other   
places."  
  
"True. And at the time, Luthor was the crime boss in   
Metropolis. They had to know he'd be hard to deal with,"   
Clark said. "It seems to me that they were always very   
careful to avoid anything The Boss had a hand in, anywhere   
in the world."  
  
"That's true. Hmmm--" Lois frowned at the printout.   
"He's married. Wife's maiden name: Mary Elliott. He's a   
Cost Mart senior manager--started at Cost Mart ten years   
ago in New Jersey, stocking shelves. He's sure come up in   
the world. I think we should go visit Mr. Hurst's place--  
when no one is home."  
  
"Elliott," Clark said. "Where have I heard that name,   
recently?"  
  
"I don't know. Who do we know named Elliott?"  
  
Clark was frowning at the paper. He raised his head.   
"Jimmy!"  
  
Jimmy arrived at Lois's desk slightly out of breath. "Man,   
you don't waste any time getting started in the morning, do   
you?"   
  
"This stuff on Theodore Hurst you gave me, yesterday. Did   
you find any information on his wife?"  
  
"You didn't ask for it," Jimmy said. "I can get it pretty   
easily."  
  
"Would you, please? As fast as possible?"  
  
"Sure," Jimmy said. "Give me a few minutes."  
  
As Jimmy headed for his own desk, the bell announced the   
arrival of the elevator. Lois looked up in time to see the   
doors open. Claude stepped out.  
  
Lois froze. The Frenchman surveyed the room with that   
casual manner of his that she remembered so well. His eyes   
met hers with an almost audible click. He smiled very   
slightly.   
  
Lois raised her eyebrows fractionally and turned to Clark.   
"Claude's here," she said.  
  
**********  
  
Clark glanced up at her warning. Claude Chabert was   
descending the ramp in a leisurely manner. As he watched,   
the man reached the floor of the Pit and crossed the room   
toward them.  
  
Oh, boy, here it came. He glanced apprehensively at Lois.  
  
Her expression surprised him. She was looking calm and   
faintly amused. With a silent plea to all the gods, past   
and present, that this didn't mean Lois was about to murder   
the man in front of over thirty witnesses, he took a firm   
grip on his courage and nodded pleasantly as Claude arrived   
beside Lois's desk.  
  
"Hello, Claude," Lois said, briskly. "I heard you were   
back."  
  
"Lois, ma cherie," Claude said, in a tone that made Clark   
bristle instinctively. "You're looking even more beautiful   
than I remembered."  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Cut the flattery, Claude,"   
she said. "What do you want?"  
  
He looked faintly surprised. "Why, nothing, cherie," he   
protested. "I only wished to say hello to an old friend."  
  
"In that case, I suggest you find one," she said, her tone   
about as welcoming as ice water. "I have work to do."  
  
"I hoped," Claude said, "that we could put that trivial   
incident behind us and remain friends. It has been such a   
long time."  
  
"Five years, two months and four days," Lois said.   
"Definitely not long enough. There's an old saying: If you   
can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. That   
about covers it--and don't call me cherie."  
  
"Perry hoped that you might give me a starting point for my   
investigation," Claude said, his smile disappearing.   
  
"Not in this lifetime," Lois said. "Find some other sucker   
to leech off of. I don't make the same mistake twice."   
She rose to her feet. "Excuse me, Clark. I'm going to get   
more coffee."  
  
The two men were left standing and looking at each other   
uncomfortably. At last, Claude shrugged. "I suppose I   
should have known better than to expect her to be   
reasonable."  
  
Clark's hackles went up. He spoke softly. "Lois is my   
partner," he said. "Don't ever say something like that   
about her again, where I can hear you. Is that clear?"   
  
The other man looked surprised but he didn't miss a beat.   
"My apologies," he said. "I spoke out of turn." With   
that, he turned on his heel and departed in the direction   
of the conference room. Clark thrust his hands into his   
pockets and followed Lois toward the coffee machine, aware   
that everyone within hearing distance had been watching the   
little tableau with interest and that Ralph was now staring   
at him, open-mouthed.   
  
**********  
  
Perry watched the confrontation between Lois and Claude   
from his office and debated whether to step in. If he   
ordered Lois to help the man out she probably would, but   
one look at her face as she crossed to the coffee machine   
made him decide against it. Reporters like Claude Chabert   
were a dime a dozen, but the Lois Lanes of the world were   
few and far between and this didn't seem to be an ordinary   
disagreement.   
  
He didn't think asking Clark to assist the man would be a   
good idea, either. For an instant, he'd thought Clark was   
going to punch the other reporter right there in the   
newsroom. He hadn't, but it was clear that it had been a   
close thing. Whatever was between Chabert and Lois had to   
be pretty serious, he thought. Clark didn't get that angry   
over a trivial argument.   
  
He scratched his chin with one finger, thinking. Ever   
since yesterday, when he'd realized that Lois was extremely   
upset over the arrival of the French reporter, he'd been   
unable to completely dismiss the matter from his mind and   
this latest incident simply reinforced it. There had been   
those rumors that Chabert and Lois had been involved during   
the first months she had been at the Planet. He'd ignored   
them at the time--Lois was an adult and it hadn't been any   
of his business. But even if there had been something, and   
if their breakup had been an unpleasant one, it seemed   
unlikely that she would continue to carry that much   
animosity five years later, particularly now that she   
showed all the signs of having developed an interest in her   
partner. And it was highly unlikely that it would upset   
Clark that much, if at all. Something else had to be   
behind it.  
  
He scowled at the people moving around out on the newsroom   
floor. Lois had returned to her workstation and she and   
Clark were apparently reading over the information   
contained on a strip of printer paper that lay on Lois's   
desk.   
  
Should he ask Lois what the problem was? He considered   
that for a moment and rejected the idea. She wasn't likely   
to tell him. But, he'd been an investigative reporter   
before he'd moved into the position of editor. Maybe he   
could figure it out on his own.   
  
He returned to his desk, still thinking. If the conflict   
wasn't because of a romantic relationship that had gone   
wrong, then it was probably professional. That was the   
only other thing that was likely to set Lois off that way.   
But, what could it be? Lois had been a rookie and Chabert   
an experienced reporter. What would cause Lois to hold   
onto a grudge that severe for over five years?  
  
It was time to do some research into Claude Chabert's   
career at the Planet over the months where it coincided   
with Lois Lane's. The man had been a decent but mediocre   
reporter up until the brilliant investigation and   
outstanding story that had won him his Kerth. It had taken   
Perry completely by surprise, but now an unwelcome   
suspicion had begun to intrude itself into his mind. He   
hoped he was wrong, but all his instincts said it was   
something he should double check.   
  
Instead of sitting down behind his computer, Perry went to   
the door of his office and opened it. "Jimmy!"   
  
**********  
  
"Sorry it took so long, CK." Jimmy set a computer printout   
on Clark's desk. "The Chief had me doing some research for   
him."  
  
"No problem, Jim." Clark picked up the paper and glanced   
over the information. "Good; this is just what I needed."  
  
"You think this Mary Hurst is involved with Intergang?"  
  
Clark shrugged. "Maybe. That's something we'll have to   
find out. One thing that interested me was her maiden   
name."  
  
"Elliott?"  
  
Clark nodded. "I knew it sounded familiar. Her brother is   
Neville Elliott."  
  
"Who's he?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"Neville Elliott was at the Mystery Mansion when Lois and I   
attended the kick-off fundraiser a few weeks ago. Lois met   
him at the opera when she went there with Luthor, last   
year. He's a cosmetic surgeon."  
  
"That's weird," Jimmy said. "I guess it could just be a   
coincidence."  
  
"It could be," Clark agreed. "It's interesting that his   
name should turn up just now, though. The first night   
there, we had a kind of strange conversation with him." He   
was silent for a moment. "Um, Jimmy, I hate to ask you   
this but--"  
  
Jimmy gave a long-suffering sigh. "Don't tell me. You   
want information on this Elliott guy."  
  
Clark could see that under the put upon appearance, he was   
hiding a grin. "If it's not too much trouble."  
  
The grin broke through. "I'll try to have it for you by   
this afternoon."  
  
"Have what for us?" Lois asked. She had approached during   
the conversation.  
  
"More research," Jimmy said. "I think I should ask the   
Chief for a raise."  
  
"Probably," Clark said. "Hazardous duty pay, at the very   
least."   
  
"No kidding." He turned his head. "Oops, Eduardo wants me   
for something. See you later."  
  
Lois picked up a nearby chair and sat down in it next to   
Clark's desk. "Tell me something."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did I or did I not quote Disney to Claude, this morning?"  
  
"Well--kind of. Bambi--and it wasn't an exact quote."  
  
"I guess that's something. It just popped into my head."  
  
"I wouldn't worry about it," Clark said. "Look what Jimmy   
found."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Remember, I said I'd heard the name Elliott recently?   
Theodore Hurst's wife is Neville Elliott's sister."  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
Clark shook his head. "Nope. Of course, it might not mean   
anything. Jimmy's going to research him for us."  
  
"I always knew there was something weird about that guy,"   
Lois remarked.  
  
"Well, admittedly he was pretty rude to you that night at   
the Mystery Mansion, but that doesn't mean he's involved   
with big time crime. He might just have been a friend of   
Luthor."  
  
Lois shook her head. "Lex didn't really like him. They   
were just polite to each other."  
  
"Well, I guess that's one thing in his favor," Clark said.   
  
"Yeah, but after we met him, Lex said something funny to me   
about him."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He said--" Lois wrinkled her brow, obviously trying to   
recall Luthor's exact words. "He said that Elliott was 'a   
blight on the social landscape, but he has his uses'. What   
do you make of that?"  
  
"I don't know, but I'd say you're right. Luthor definitely   
didn't like him. On the other hand, he didn't like   
Superman, either."  
  
Lois smacked his shoulder. "Yes--but I wouldn't compare   
Neville Elliott to Superman!"  
  
"I'm glad of that," Clark said, grinning. "Seriously   
though, maybe we should check him out along with Hurst. If   
Luthor had a use for him, it probably wasn't for anything   
good."  
  
**********  
  
It was about two hours later that Lois saw Clark lift his   
head in the way that meant that he was hearing something no   
one else could. He looked straight at her and made a   
little gesture with one hand that she knew meant Superman   
was needed. She nodded and watched as he headed toward the   
stairs.  
  
"Kent returning a library book again?" Ralph's voice asked   
from beside her.  
  
"He's just going down to the morgue to dig up some old   
files," Lois said, turning her head to glare irritably at   
him. "You know, Ralph, that line's getting old, really   
fast. Clark's a better reporter than any man in this room-  
-with the possible exception of Perry. So drop it, will   
you?"  
  
"Sorry, Lane." Ralph rolled his eyes. "Geez, It was just   
a joke!"  
  
"Yeah, well it's not funny anymore!"  
  
"Don't you have a story you're supposed to be working on,   
Ralph?" Perry's voice said. Lois glanced over her shoulder   
to see her boss come to a stop behind her chair as Ralph   
scurried away. He rested a hand on the chair back and   
lowered his voice. "You okay, honey?"  
  
She sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's been a rough few   
weeks."  
  
"It sure has." Perry glanced at the stairs where Clark had   
disappeared. "No wonder Clark's in such good condition   
with the amount of stair climbing he does."  
  
"It's one way he keeps in shape," Lois said, wondering   
where this was leading.  
  
"It's good to see one of my people trying so hard to stay   
fit," Perry said. "This morning, I thought he was going to   
punch Chabert. I'm glad he restrained himself."  
  
Lois hadn't seen that. She started to reply, but Perry was   
continuing. "Not that I blame him, actually."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I spent some time this afternoon re-reading that story   
that won Chabert his Kerth. Not his usual style at all."  
  
"What?"  
  
"In fact, up until then, his writing was pretty ordinary.   
I had Jimmy dig up some of his other work and took a look   
at it. That one story was an outstanding piece of   
journalism. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was   
yours."  
  
Lois could feel her jaw drop. Perry continued in a   
meditative way, "It's interesting, really. Before you came   
to the Planet, he was a decent reporter. He never set the   
world on fire, but he was a good workhorse. Then, a few   
months after you got here, Chabert turned in this   
incredible, front page story that rightfully won an award   
for investigative journalism. I've only seen that kind of   
work and that kind of writing from one other reporter since   
then--and that reporter has since won three more Kerths.   
Even the writing style is yours." He paused for a second   
and when he spoke again, his slight Southern accent had   
become more pronounced. "Is there anything you'd like to   
tell me, Lois?"  
  
She could only stare at him in shock. Perry's expression   
didn't change. "It was your story, wasn't it?"  
  
She nodded.   
  
"I thought so. He stole an award-winning story from you.   
You were a rookie, and you figured no one would take your   
word over his. Am I right?"  
  
Again, she nodded, unable to speak.   
  
Perry smiled slightly. "And that award should rightfully   
have been yours. I don't know if there's anything we can   
do about it at this late date, but we'll see. In the   
meantime, tell your partner not to punch him, would you,   
honey? I don't want Clark thrown in jail on an assault   
charge."  
  
Lois could only nod wordlessly and stare after him as he   
turned and made his way back to his office. One thing was   
for certain, she thought, after her brain finally started   
to function coherently again. Perry sure hadn't become the   
editor here because he could yodel.  
  
**********  
  
Clark returned to the office nearly an hour later. Lois   
had heard the report on the radio about the explosion of   
the cabin cruiser just outside Hobs Bay and the presence of   
Superman, so his return wasn't a surprise.   
  
"Hey, Kent--find anything down in the morgue?" Ralph   
inquired. "Like lost library books, maybe?" He laughed   
heartily at his own joke.  
  
Clark continued on to his desk, ignoring the man. He   
didn't look as if he was in the mood for Ralph's humor at   
the moment, Lois thought. From what she'd heard, not even   
Superman had been able to locate any survivors. He'd told   
her once that he knew he couldn't save everyone--that it   
was Lois, herself, who had shown him that. But to Clark,   
anyone's life was important. He didn't like it when he was   
too late, even though he might intellectually accept his   
limitations. After a second, she rose and went over to his   
desk.  
  
"You okay?" she asked, softly.  
  
"Huh? Yeah, I guess so. By the time I got there, it was   
too late. I hunted for survivors but from the size of the   
explosion, it had to have been a bomb. I scanned the whole   
area--nothing."  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
He shook his head. "No sign of anyone, alive or dead. The   
only thing I found was a suitcase floating in the water.   
The police have it--they hope it might give them a clue to   
who was in the boat."  
  
She waited for him to continue. When he didn't, she   
prodded. "Didn't you look it over? You know--buzz-buzz?"  
  
"Buzz-buzz?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
He smiled reluctantly. "Yeah. There was a passport in it.   
The name was Jocelyn Monroe."  
  
"I've never heard of her," Lois said.   
  
"I've never heard the name," Clark agreed, "but I   
recognized the picture. It was Diana Stride."  
  
**********  
  
"Any sign of Nunk?" Lois asked in a whisper.  
  
Clark lowered his glasses and glanced around. "I don't see   
him. Maybe Security had him arrested."  
  
"His paper would bail him out before the paperwork was   
finished," Lois said. "He might be hanging around the   
garage entrance, since we sneaked out that way before."  
  
Clark pushed open the side door of the Planet building and   
the two of them made a hasty exit. "The bus comes by in   
five minutes. We're going to have to hurry."  
  
"I'm just glad Perry let us go early enough to get to the   
repair place before it closes," Lois said. "I miss my   
car."  
  
They walked toward the bus stop as quickly as Lois's   
athletic cast would permit. True to the weather forecast   
early that morning, a light, spring rain was falling and   
Clark found himself wishing he had brought an umbrella.   
They were both wearing light coats but the little drops of   
water speckled the lenses of his glasses, distorting his   
vision and making it harder to see.  
  
As they arrived at the bus stop, the bus pulled up to the   
curb with a groan of brakes, a spattering of water droplets   
and a thick belch of exhaust. Lois made a face. "Whew!   
I'm glad I don't have to ride on these most of the time!"  
  
"Me too." Clark gave her a hand onto the high step.   
"Watch it; it's a little slippery."  
  
"There's Nunk," Lois said, nodding out the window that   
faced the street as she pushed her way down the central   
aisle. Clark glanced around as the battered van rounded   
the corner. He lowered his glasses slightly to verify her   
identification.   
  
"Yep, it's him, all right. I'm starting to wonder how come   
he's always right on top of us, every time we leave the   
Planet."  
  
Lois grasped one of the overhead straps to steady herself   
as the bus lurched into motion. "Amazing coincidence,   
isn't it? I wonder if someone in the newsroom is notifying   
him when we go somewhere."  
  
"They'd have to follow us to know which way we're using,"   
Clark mused. He pulled the handkerchief from his back   
pocket and wiped water drops from the lenses of his glasses   
"I think I'll watch, the next time we leave for some reason   
and see if we have a tail. I'd hate to think that someone   
at the Planet is helping Nunk but it's happened before."  
  
"My question is how we're going to avoid him when we get   
off the bus," Lois said. "I think he's following us."  
  
"We might have to put up with him," Clark said. "The guy's   
persistent, I'll give him that."   
  
"Too persistent," Lois said, crossly. "How are we supposed   
to conduct any kind of investigation with him practically   
hanging onto our ankles?"  
  
"We'll think of something to distract him," Clark said. "I   
think it's too late this time, though. Here. Use this to   
keep off the cameraman." He picked up a copy of the   
Whisper that lay on the floor. A picture of himself, his   
face mostly obscured by a notebook, adorned the front page.   
Examining it critically, he had to admit to a slight   
satisfaction. What could be seen of him looked nothing   
like Superman. For one thing, he was slouching and the   
horn-rimmed glasses he had taken to wearing since the   
pursuit by Nunk and the other tabloid reporters--admittedly   
nowhere as persistent as Nunk--made him look like a   
slightly rumpled version of the math teacher whose class he   
had attended in ninth grade.  
  
Lois took the paper from his hand and examined the picture   
on the front. "Nice picture."  
  
"Isn't it," Clark said.  
  
Lois took several sheets from the inside and handed them   
back to him. "Here's your cover."  
  
"Thanks." He arranged the pages neatly together.   
  
The bus made several stops before it reached the street   
closest to the repair shop. As they descended from the   
vehicle, Clark glanced cautiously toward the white van, now   
several cars back. The driver was looking frantically   
around for a parking space.  
  
"Hurry," he said. "Before he finds a place to park."  
  
They arrived at the office of Jake's Auto Repair with Lois   
slightly out of breath and dodged inside. She gave a sigh   
of relief as the door closed behind them. The man behind   
the counter looked up in surprise. "Can I help you?"  
  
"Yeah," Lois said, wiping water from her face. "I'm Lois   
Lane. I'm here to get my Jeep."  
  
"Oh, right. I've got your paperwork right here."  
  
"Could you hurry, please?" Lois said, glancing out the   
wide, front window.  
  
The cashier produced a sheaf of papers, stapled at one   
corner, and looked curiously at her. "Is there a problem,   
Ms. Lane?"  
  
"Kind of," Lois said. "There's a creep from the Whisper   
following us."  
  
The man raised his eyebrows. "Leo Nunk?" he inquired.  
  
Lois stared at him. "How did you know?"  
  
"He was here, earlier. He wanted me to let him see your   
car and look inside. He offered me a hundred dollars,   
too," the man added, regretfully. "I didn't, though. I   
could have gotten fired."  
  
"I'm glad you didn't let him," Lois said. "He's been   
following us around for a week."  
  
The man glanced at Clark, who was leaning against the wall,   
waiting and trying to look as un-Supermanish as possible.   
"Yeah, I read all about it. That Nunk guy should be   
writing fantasy novels or something. If you'll pardon me,   
Mr. Kent, you don't look anything like Superman. No   
offense, but you're not tall enough, for one thing."  
  
"No kidding," Clark said.  
  
"Well," Lois said, opening her checkbook and beginning to   
write, "it would sure be some trick. Clark and I   
interviewed Superman last week. Do you remember the water   
main break in front of City Hall--the one that just about   
swallowed that tour bus? Superman pulled them out of the   
sinkhole, you know. Even he can't be in two places at   
once."  
  
The clerk snorted. "That's for sure." He looked up as the   
jingle of the door opening announced the arrival of Leo   
Nunk and his photographer. Clark lifted the section of the   
Whisper that he'd found on the bus and blocked the   
photographer's view.  
  
"Here you go," Lois said, handing the check to the clerk.   
She glanced at Nunk. "Don't you have rules against vermin   
in your office?"  
  
"Very funny," Nunk said. "And don't think I've forgiven   
you for that ice water trick."  
  
"I haven't a clue what you're talking about." Lois held   
her own section of the paper in front of her face. "Can   
somebody bring my car around, please? I want to get out of   
here before I catch something contagious."  
  
"It'll be here in a minute, Ms. Lane." The man behind the   
counter smothered a grin and turned to the two reporters   
from the Whisper. "Is there something I can do for you?"  
  
"Uh, uh." Nunk was holding his microphone toward Lois.   
"Reading my work, Lois?"  
  
"No, just looking for a bird cage." She picked up her   
checkbook and turned, nearly bumping directly into the man.   
"Would you mind moving back an inch or two? Your breath   
smells really bad."  
  
Clark broke into a series of coughs and cleared his throat   
loudly. Everyone knew that Superman didn't get sick. Out   
of the corner of his eye, he saw Lois's Cherokee pull up   
outside and began to edge out the door. The photographer   
stepped in his way, thrusting the camera into his face.   
Clark had had enough. He put a hand firmly over the lens   
and gripped the device, twisting it out of the other man's   
fingers.   
  
"Hey! You can't take my camera!" the cameraman protested.  
  
Clark opened the back, shook out the film, tossed it to the   
floor and ground the heel of his shoe into it. "Sue me,"   
he said. "Here." He thrust the camera into the   
photographer's hands and pushed past him through the door.   
"And the next time I find my apartment bugged, you're going   
to regret it, Nunk. Come on, Lois."  
  
"Wow," Lois said, as she slammed the driver's door. "You   
don't usually lose your temper like that."  
  
Clark didn't answer at once. Lois put the Jeep in forward   
and pulled away from the repair shop. At last, he sighed.   
"I suppose I shouldn't have."  
  
"No, I think that's exactly what you should have done.   
Superman doesn't lose his temper but you did."  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
"I'll take your word for it. We're going to have to do   
something about him. I've had it up to here."  
  
"I kind of guessed that," Lois said. "I think we should   
talk to Perry about an injunction against the Whisper for   
Nunk's harassment. This time we had a witness--and it will   
be more convincing for anyone who wonders about the   
Superman/Clark Kent connection." Suddenly, she put a hand   
over her mouth. "Ohmigod, I didn't think. Do you suppose   
he bugged the car?"  
  
"No, I already checked. Although that's probably why he   
tried to bribe the clerk for a look at it."  
  
"Probably," Lois said. She glanced over her shoulder.   
"That--" She bit off the word. "They're following us."  
  
Clark looked back and at once identified the battered white   
van, four cars behind them. "I guess it takes a lot to   
discourage tabloid reporters. I imagine we're not the   
first people to get irritated at being trailed around."  
  
"I'm sure we're not. But he's going to find out he made a   
mistake tangling with us. Nobody interferes with me when   
I'm following a story." She stepped on the gas,   
maneuvering through the crowd of rush hour traffic with   
more than her usual aggressiveness. Clark ignored the   
blare of horns from irritated drivers.   
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"Back to the Planet. I want to talk to Perry and you need   
to sneak out via the roof and find out if the police have   
learned anything more about Diana Stride. You really think   
that was her in the boat?"  
  
"I can't see any other reason why a suitcase with her   
passport in it was floating out there in the water."  
  
"Then she's probably dead."  
  
"Probably. Maybe Intergang decided she was too much of a   
liability."  
  
"Well, it sure wouldn't surprise me," Lois said.  
  
"Me, either." He debated a moment. "Could I ask you   
something kind of personal that's off the subject?"  
  
"Maybe. I don't promise to answer you, though."  
  
"How did you know how long it's been since Claude stole   
your story?"  
  
"Oh, that." Lois grinned. "I didn't. I figured he   
wouldn't remember exactly when it was, so I bluffed."  
  
That surprised a laugh out of him. "Good for you." He   
glanced in the rear view mirror. "Nunk's only two cars   
back, now."  
  
"Oh for James Bond's car. I'd love to throw an oil slick   
out for him." She glanced back over her shoulder. "Okay,   
pal, you want to make this into a contest? You're on."  
  
"Lois--"  
  
"Just hang on, Clark. I'm going to show this guy how to   
*drive*!"  
  
Clark resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead took a   
firm grip on the armrest, reflecting that Superman could   
rescue them if they got into too much trouble.  
  
Lois glanced alertly about as they entered the intersection   
and then made a sharp U-turn into the opposing lane. Horns   
honked, brakes screeched and water sprayed. A gap opened   
in the line of cars as a horrified driver saw the Jeep   
headed right for him and slammed on his brakes. Lois   
neatly inserted the Cherokee into the open space. Clark   
gritted his teeth, trying to appear casual, and glanced   
sideways at Nunk's van.  
  
The cameraman was twisting his head frantically, looking   
for a space to turn. Lacking Lois's iron nerves--or   
borderline insanity, Clark reflected--he was having   
difficulty accomplishing the feat. Lois didn't give him   
time to find one. She made an immediate right turn into   
the cross street and then turned right again down an alley.   
A stray cat leaped from the top of a trash can to the four-  
inch ledge that ran around the corner building as the Jeep   
lurched and bounced its way over the cracked cement of the   
alley, splattering water from the gathering puddles as it   
went. In less than a minute, they had reached the alley's   
exit onto a narrow back street. Lois turned left. Clark   
released his grip on the armrest and let out his breath.  
  
Lois glanced at him, a satisfied grin on her face. "Do I   
make you nervous?" she inquired, innocently.  
  
"A little. Where did you learn to drive like that?"  
  
"I took a course in police driving."  
  
Naturally. "I'm not even going to ask how you wangled   
that. Let's get out of here before Nunk and his sidekick   
catch up to us."  
  
"You have to remember; I know guys who know guys. Being   
able to drive like that saved my skin a few times before I   
met you, too." Lois proceeded at a much saner speed down   
the narrow thoroughfare. "Anyway, I'm going to stick to   
the back streets. I think they'll be a lot less crowded   
than the main ones."  
  
Her prediction proved to be correct and a short time later   
they were pulling into the Planet's underground parking   
lot.  
  
"I don't see Nunk anywhere," Clark reported.   
  
"He's probably still stuck in traffic." Lois opened her   
door. "Let's go up to the newsroom and talk to Perry and   
then Superman can head over to police headquarters and see   
if there's any more information on that explosion."  
  
**********   
  
Predictably, Perry hadn't left yet, even though the time   
was now quarter to six. What was more surprising was that   
Jimmy Olsen was still there. He looked up from his   
computer screen as the two of them descended the short   
flight of steps into the Pit. "What are you guys doing   
back here?"  
  
"We forgot something," Lois said. "Is Perry busy?"  
  
"Probably, but I think he'd be willing to talk to you,"   
Jimmy said.   
  
"How are you doing after your first full day back?" Clark   
asked, pausing by his desk.  
  
"Kind of tired." Jimmy made an unsuccessful attempt to   
scratch the healing scar on his back. "Those half days   
were great but I was getting bored, you know?"  
  
"Yeah, I think I do." Clark glanced at the clock. "Why   
are you still here, anyway?"  
  
"Just finishing that research you asked me to do. I'm just   
about done."  
  
"I'm sure it can wait for tomorrow," Clark said. "You look   
like you need a rest."   
  
"I'm ready to go home," Jimmy admitted. "Anyway, I hope   
it's what you need."  
  
"I'm sure it is. Why don't you say good night?"  
  
"I will in a minute...ah! There!" He leaned back in his   
chair. "Just wait until this prints up and then I'm outta   
here."  
  
Clark grinned. "If there's anything else, I'm sure it can   
wait until tomorrow."  
  
Jimmy nodded and stretched. "I just want to nail these   
Intergang types if we can. The printout will be ready in a   
couple of minutes."  
  
"Just don't wear yourself out over it," Clark said. "It's   
not going to happen all at once. Intergang is   
multinational and bringing it down is going to take time."   
He slapped Jimmy lightly on the shoulder. "I better go   
talk to Perry. See you tomorrow."  
  
**********  
  
Lois was already speaking to their boss when he entered the   
editor's office. Perry glanced at him as he opened the   
door, a frown on his face.  
  
"Is Nunk being as much of an irritant to you as he is to   
Lois, Clark?"  
  
"At least as much," Clark said. "She told you about the   
bugged apartments?"  
  
"I hadn't gotten to that part, yet," Lois said. "I'd just   
finished with what happened at the repair shop."  
  
"He bugged your apartments?" Perry's face was a study in   
annoyance. "I don't suppose you can prove that, though."  
  
"Of course not," Clark said. "We can prove they followed   
us to the sandwich shop, though, and to the repair place.   
Not to mention, they're always waiting when we come in to   
work in the morning."  
  
"And we both saw the cameraman following us last night,"   
Lois added. "Um--Clark and I went out to dinner. Nothing   
fancy, but--"  
  
Perry held up his hand. "Honey, you don't have to explain.   
I know you're dating. Look, I'll talk to Legal about this   
and see if they think we can get an injunction against   
harassment or somethin'. It's got to be interferin' with   
your ability to do your jobs."  
  
"To say the least," Lois said. "Not to mention, I'm   
probably going to kill the slimeball if it doesn't stop   
soon."  
  
Their editor grinned. "I'll see what I can do. And by the   
way, Lois, the lawyers heard what I had to say about that   
other matter. They're looking at the evidence and want to   
know if you're willing to sign an affidavit that the story   
was yours and that Chabert won his award under false   
pretenses."  
  
"You bet I am," Lois said. "Do they really think there's a   
chance?"  
  
"Well, it depends. The Kerth Committee will have to look   
at the samples of writing from both of you and compare   
them--and you have a track record to back you up, now.   
We'll see what happens. At the very least, it'll cast some   
doubt on whether or not he actually wrote the story."  
  
"I'll settle for that if I have to," Lois said. "And Clark   
knows all about it, too."  
  
"I figured he did," Perry said. "For a minute I thought   
you were gonna punch the guy, Clark."  
  
"He insulted Lois," Clark said. "It made me mad. I   
wouldn't have punched him, though."  
  
"I don't think he was sure of that," Perry said. "Anyhow,   
please don't. I don't want to have to bail you out of   
jail."  
  
"I won't."  
  
"Now, is there anything else?"  
  
"No, that about covers it," Lois said.  
  
"Not completely," Clark said. "We think somebody in the   
newsroom might be tipping Nunk off whenever we're on our   
way out. He shows up within a few minutes, every time we   
leave--even when we sneak out a side entrance or   
something."  
  
Perry frowned. "I'd hate to think somebody from the Planet   
might be helping the Whisper," he said. "Still, it   
wouldn't be the first time. You got any suggestions what   
we should do about it?"  
  
"We're going to try to watch," Clark said, "but, maybe we   
could get someone here in the newsroom to help--someone we   
know isn't the spy--and have him watch to see if anyone   
leaves right after us."  
  
"Not a bad idea. You have anyone in mind?"  
  
"Well, yesterday when Lois and I left, Nunk showed up when   
we went out via the basement parking lot. That was in the   
afternoon--and Jimmy had gone home at two."  
  
"That sounds like he's safe," Perry said. "I'd have been   
surprised if he wasn't. Has he left, yet?"  
  
Clark glanced out the window into the newsroom. Jimmy was   
just setting several sheets of paper on Lois's desk. "He's   
on his way out." He quickly opened the door of the office.   
"Jim, could you come here a minute, please? We'd like to   
ask you for a favor."  
  
**********  
  
A short time later, the evening shift wasn't surprised to   
see Lois at her desk, reading the notes Jimmy Olsen had so   
carefully prepared for her, and her partner nowhere to be   
seen. Harry Williams passed her desk on the way to his   
own, the ever-present cup of coffee in his hand. "Hi,   
Lois. Another late night?"  
  
"Sort of," she said. "I probably won't be here much   
longer, though. I'm waiting for a phone call from   
Switzerland."  
  
That wasn't unusual, either. Harry ambled on over to his   
desk and plopped into the chair. The late evening shift in   
the Planet newsroom usually didn't have a lot to do, which   
was why he preferred it. He had only six months left until   
he retired and moved to the little place in the country   
that he and his wife had bought ten years ago. A year from   
now he'd be raising vegetables in his backyard garden and   
cussing the rabbit and gopher populations. It would be   
much better for his blood pressure, he knew, and he doubted   
he'd miss the city at all.  
  
The ringing of the phone on Lois's desk interrupted his   
pleasant daydream and he glanced in her direction. She   
reached out to pick it up and he saw her sit up straight,   
instantly all business. She made several notes on the pad   
of paper by the phone, thanked the caller and signed off.   
Now, Lois was a great reporter, he thought. Not to   
mention, easy on the eyes. For a moment, he envied her   
partner. Kent had the right temperament and anyone who   
ever saw them working together knew he was crazy about her,   
anyway.  
  
Aware that his wife would disapprove, he looked away in   
time to see the elevator doors open.  
  
The man who entered looked familiar and it took Harry a   
minute to recall where he'd seen him before. Claude   
something-or-other had been part of the Planet staff   
several years ago. Harry had never liked him much; it had   
always struck him that the guy was too smooth to be genuine   
and Harry had no use for con artists of any stripe.   
Somewhere along the line, he recalled vaguely, there had   
been a spate of rumors about him and Lois. Harry had   
disapproved of the arrangement, if true; Lois had been   
about twenty-one or two, a good fifteen years younger than   
the fellow and the phrase "robbing the cradle" came to   
mind, but it hadn't been any of his business. Just the   
same, he hadn't missed the man when he'd abruptly   
transferred back to the Planet's Paris office.  
  
The Frenchman came across the office to Lois's desk and   
paused beside it. She looked up, apparently startled.  
  
"Lois, my dear, I wondered if we could talk." The man's   
voice was deliberately low and Harry surreptitiously turned   
up his hearing aid. He didn't like the guy's tone of voice   
or the expression on his face and Lois obviously wasn't   
happy to see him.  
  
"I have nothing to say to you, Claude." Her voice was   
completely expressionless. "And I'm not your 'dear'."   
  
"Obviously not. However, it's come to my attention that   
some unpleasant rumors are circulating about the situation   
involving my Kerth award. I thought we should straighten   
them out."  
  
"*Your* Kerth? That was my story, and you know it."  
  
"But no one else does. In any case, if you insist on   
pursuing this course, I can make life very unpleasant for   
you, Lois. Our relationship wasn't entirely unknown five   
years ago."  
  
"'Relationship'? You used our so-called relationship to   
steal my story!"  
  
"And I'm perfectly willing to use that relationship to   
defend my position. I have a very good imagination, my   
dear." He used the endearment deliberately. "Unless you   
wish your reputation to be completely destroyed, you'll   
give up this childish pursuit."  
  
Lois stood up suddenly. She was considerably shorter than   
the man standing beside her, but he moved back a step in   
the face of her anger. "Claude, you never did have any   
ethics and I learned that the hard way." Her voice was   
loud enough that Harry didn't need his hearing aid to   
overhear, and he saw Ben Jacobs glance curiously in her   
direction. "I didn't fight you five years ago because I   
didn't think anyone would believe a rookie. I should have   
then, and I'm going to make up for that now. If you think   
you can ruin my reputation, take your best shot and we'll   
see who convinces whom."  
  
The man reached forward to grasp her by the wrist. "I'm   
warning you, Lois--"  
  
Harry was on his feet and walking toward the two before he   
realized what he was doing. He stopped behind Claude. "Is   
this guy bothering you, Ms. Lane?"  
  
Both combatants seemed to notice him at the same time, and   
Harry could see relief on Lois's face. Her opponent half-  
turned, his dark face contorted in a scowl. "This is none   
of your business, old man."  
  
"I think it is," Harry said. "And I think you better get   
your hand off Ms. Lane's arm before I call Security."  
  
Claude slowly released her wrist and Harry could see the   
red marks left by his fingers. "There, are you satisfied?   
This is a private conversation."  
  
"I will be when I see you walking away." Harry stood his   
ground.  
  
For a second, Claude hesitated, clearly debating whether to   
give in, then he gave a half-shrug. "Remember what I said,   
my dear. I'm not through with this, yet."  
  
"And you remember what *I* said," Lois replied. Harry had   
to admire her attitude. "If you want to fight, I'll see   
you in front of the Kerth Committee."  
  
When the man had disappeared into Conference Room 3, she   
turned back to Harry. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem. I heard what he said to you. If you need me   
to back you up to Mr. White--"  
  
She started to answer and then paused. "You heard all of   
that?"  
  
Harry could feel himself turning red. "Yeah; every word.   
I didn't like the way he was acting toward you, so I turned   
up my hearing aid and I heard him threaten you. I probably   
shouldn't have been listening. Sorry if I--"  
  
"No, that's all right. You're a reporter. I'd have   
probably done the same thing." She was looking thoughtful.   
"I might need you to tell what you saw and heard if he   
tries to carry through, though. Would you?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Sure. That kind of thing gives every   
journalist in the business a bad name."  
  
"Yeah, it does." He could have sworn she was looking   
embarrassed. "I appreciate your help, Harry."  
  
"Anytime," Harry said. "I never liked the jerk, anyway."  
  
**********   
  
Clark landed on the roof of the Daily Planet building,   
moving too fast to be seen by normal eyes and ducked   
through the door to the stairs. A second later, he emerged   
into the newsroom.  
  
Lois was obviously waiting for him, and the relief on her   
face surprised him. "Is something wrong, Lois?"  
  
"Yes and no." She reached out to ring for the elevator and   
the doors opened almost immediately.  
  
Clark glanced around the newsroom, trying to spot whatever   
might have upset her. At once, he became aware of an   
additional heartbeat issuing from Conference Room 3. He   
lowered his glasses to confirm the presence of Claude in   
the other room.  
  
"Come on, Clark," Lois said. "I can't hold this thing all   
day."  
  
She was holding the door for him. He quickly boarded the   
elevator and a moment later they were proceeding downward.  
  
"I take it, you and Claude had words?" he asked.  
  
"You could say that." Lois matter-of-factly tucked a big   
manila envelope under her arm. "He threatened me."  
  
"He *what*?"  
  
The elevator slid to a stop on the first floor and several   
people crowded in. Clark resisted the urge to make an exit   
and fly up to the newsroom as Superman to scare the wits   
out of Claude. Superman was above that sort of thing, he   
reminded himself, sharply. Besides, he didn't have all the   
facts, yet.  
  
At a snail's pace, they descended toward the parking garage   
once more, and finally the doors popped open with a sigh of   
compressed air. Lois and Clark hung back, allowing the   
others to exit ahead of them. Clark lowered his glasses   
and glanced around. "No Nunk. What do you mean, Claude   
threatened you?"  
  
"He threatened to ruin my reputation if I didn't back off   
trying to prove that he stole my story."  
  
Clark reminded himself not to grind his teeth. "And you   
said?"  
  
"I told him to do his worst, but I wasn't backing down."  
  
"Good for you," Clark said.  
  
"Yeah, but now I need to do something about it. I think it   
would be best to let Perry know the whole truth. It'll be   
embarrassing, but that way he can operate with all the   
facts."  
  
"Are you sure, Lois?"  
  
She gave a determined nod. "I'm sure. I never said   
anything before--except to you. You have a way of   
inspiring trust, you know? But I didn't want Perry to know   
what an idiot I'd been. I mean, it was over and done with,   
Claude had the story and I didn't have any proof, so why   
let anyone know the sordid details?"  
  
"I can understand that," Clark said.  
  
"But, it's different, now," she continued. "Claude's not   
going to win this one, no matter what it takes. Even if it   
means humiliating myself in front of Perry and the Kerth   
Committee as well, I'm not going to let that scuzzball   
win."  
  
Lois Lane in fighting mode was an impressive sight to see,   
Clark thought. "I think you're right," he said. "Who   
cares about a five-year old piece of gossip, anyway? I'd   
say it's not worth worrying about. Besides, if you ask me,   
the one who'll look bad will be Claude. That was a pretty   
crummy thing to do."  
  
"He'll claim that I'm just doing this for revenge because   
he dumped me," Lois said. "All the more reason to get to   
Perry first with the details. Tonight."  
  
They headed for the Jeep. Clark glanced around again,   
assuring himself that Nunk wasn't waiting by the garage   
exit for them. "What do you want to do?"  
  
"I called Perry while I was waiting for you. We're   
supposed to meet him at his house. I told him I needed to   
tell him the whole story."  
  
"I think you're being smart," Clark said, "and I think   
Perry will think so, too."  
  
"I hope so." Lois took out her key as they approached the   
Jeep. "Any bugs?"  
  
Clark lowered his glasses. "No," he said, after several   
seconds. "I guess Nunk hasn't found us, yet."  
  
"If I ever find out he's bugged my car, he's history," Lois   
said. "My apartment was one thing, but my Jeep is   
something else altogether."   
  
Clark grinned slightly. The whole attitude was just so   
Lois.   
  
In the Jeep, he took the envelope she had brought from the   
newsroom. "What's this?"   
  
Lois pulled the safety harness over her shoulder and   
fastened it. "Oh, that's the stuff Jimmy got for us on   
Neville Elliott."  
  
"Anything interesting?"  
  
"Maybe." She started the engine and backed smartly out of   
the parking space. "Elliott came to Metropolis about six   
to eight weeks before Hurst did, set up his clinic and   
became well known within a few months. Jimmy dug into his   
background. He graduated from a prestigious medical school   
in Europe and did his specialty work in Switzerland."  
  
"But?"  
  
"The hospital where he supposedly worked burned to the   
ground a couple of months before he showed up in   
Metropolis. The medical school lists a Neville Elliott as   
one of its graduates but whether it's the same guy is   
anybody's guess."  
  
"The name isn't a common one--and Elliott's a skilled   
doctor. If he wasn't, he wouldn't be such a success."  
  
"True." Lois pulled the Jeep out onto the street. A light   
spray of rain across the windshield made her turn on the   
wipers. The sun had been down for some time and the   
streetlights were on. Light reflected wetly off the   
asphalt and the headlights of passing cars were dazzling.   
  
"I wonder where Nunk is," Clark said.  
  
"Probably staked out by one of our apartments, waiting for   
us to show up," Lois replied. "I suppose it's too much to   
hope that he'll get discouraged and go home."   
  
"Probably. So there's nothing really unusual in Elliott's   
past?"  
  
"Well--maybe. I called an acquaintance of mine over there   
for more information. I got a call back a little while   
ago. It seems that the cause of the hospital fire was   
arson."  
  
"Interesting coincidence."  
  
"I thought so."  
  
"Did Jimmy find out anything else on him?"   
  
"Not much. Just a few dry facts; where he was born, where   
he went to school and so forth. Why?"  
  
"Just my suspicious nature, I guess," Clark said, ignoring   
Lois's incredulous snort of disbelief. "No, really. Look,   
suppose for a minute that he's connected with Intergang.   
The business about the hospital makes me wonder. Look what   
they did with Diana Stride. They took a little-known TV   
reporter, pulled her out of obscurity and turned her into a   
star--so they could use her as an international assassin.   
There's a parallel here. Maybe he's the Neville Elliott   
who worked in the Swiss hospital and maybe he isn't but   
he's really good at his job. He comes here, sets up a   
clinic and within months he's a prominent plastic surgeon   
who caters to the rich and famous of Metropolis and is on   
friendly terms with most of them."  
  
"He should be," Lois muttered, weaving her way through the   
moderately heavy traffic of the late evening. "He's got   
before and after pictures of most of them. Talk about   
blackmail material. But what use would a plastic surgeon   
be to Intergang?"  
  
"Arianna Carlin had a use for one."  
  
"Yeah, I guess she did." Lois began to slow the Jeep as   
they approached a stoplight. "And Lex said he had his   
uses. I guess I can see why they might want someone like   
that on their payroll. If things were getting too hot for   
some Intergang big shot and he needed a new identity, and a   
new face to go with it--" She broke off suddenly. "Oh my   
God..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He's Hurst's brother-in-law."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Hurst was Diana Stride's Intergang contact. And you   
didn't find a body."  
  
The driver of the car ahead of them slammed on his brakes   
and Lois brought the Jeep to a stop inches from its bumper   
but they hardly noticed. They were staring at each other   
in complete comprehension.  
  
"Diana Stride's not dead," Clark said. "At least, she   
probably isn't."   
  
"Probably. And we're the only ones who have any idea where   
to look for her."  
  
They were silent for a minute until the honk of a car horn   
from the irritated driver behind them jarred Lois out of   
her abstraction. The car in front of them was moving   
forward at a snail's pace and ahead, Clark could see a long   
line of bumper to bumper traffic. "I think there's an   
accident up there," he said. "I can see flashing lights   
about six blocks up, and a cop is directing people around a   
couple of cars. Looks like a fender bender."  
  
"Great." Lois twisted her head back and forth, looking for   
an escape route. "We're stuck. I love rush hour in   
Metropolis."  
  
Clark opened the door. "I'll be right back."  
  
"Where--" She broke off as he literally disappeared and   
shook her head. All this time, she'd had Superman for a   
partner and she'd never suspected it because of his ability   
to move so quickly that it often seemed Clark and Superman   
were in the same place at the same time. The actual fact   
that she'd never seen them together had never occurred to   
her.  
  
The rain was beginning to come down a little harder. Maybe   
they were going to get that thunderstorm after all, she   
thought and hoped sincerely that any employee of the   
Whisper who was staked out at either Clark's apartment or   
hers would pay for it by getting soaked and hopefully be   
stuck in bed with the flu for a week or so.  
  
Clark opened the passenger door and got in. "The jam's   
about to clear," he reported. "Superman moved the cars out   
of the way."  
  
"That was nice of him," she remarked.  
  
"I thought so." He looked so smug that she smacked his arm   
lightly.   
  
"You rat! When I think of all the times in the last year   
and a half--"  
  
The cars were beginning to creep forward again and she   
began to inch ahead. Within a couple of minutes they were   
moving at the normal rush hour speed, which wasn't much of   
an improvement, but at least they *were* moving.  
  
Clark was glancing around. "Pull into the parking lot over   
there," he said, pointing. "I think Superman Express can   
get us where we want to go faster than this, if you don't   
mind a few raindrops."  
  
Lois pulled into the lot. Having had experience flying in   
Superman's arms, she wasn't very worried about getting wet.   
Besides, Clark could dry her off in seconds with his heat   
vision, if necessary. A few moments later, they were   
taking off from a shadowed corner of the lot, headed for   
Perry's home, located in one of the upper middle-class   
neighborhoods of the city.  
  
As she expected, Clark didn't make her put up with the   
rain. He made a fast ascent until they were flying above   
the cloud layer and looking up, Lois could see a black sky   
spangled with stars. After a moment, she realized one of   
the stars was moving, and belatedly identified it as a   
passenger plane headed out to sea.  
  
"That's the NorthEastern Airlines New York to Miami   
flight," Clark said in a matter-of-fact tone. "They're a   
little behind schedule."  
  
"I suppose you would know," she said.   
  
"Along with a lot of other trivia," Clark agreed.  
  
"I always wondered why you were so good at Trivial   
Pursuit," Lois said. "Who would have thought Superman   
collects trivia as a hobby?"  
  
He laughed. "Superman is just a normal guy, except for a   
few extra qualities. Why shouldn't he do the same things   
that other guys do?"  
  
"Well, the first time I hear you wolf-whistle at some babe,   
you're dead," she warned him.  
  
"Hey, I said I was normal, not suicidal," he said.   
"Besides, the only 'babe' I want to wolf-whistle at is you.   
And, you'll notice, I've never been stupid enough to try   
it."  
  
Lois began to giggle. The mental image of Superman doing   
such a thing--and the result it would have--was so   
incongruous that she couldn't help it.  
  
They had been flying only a few minutes when he brought   
them down in the shadow of a high hedge. Quickly, they ran   
to the covered front porch of a modern, two story home, and   
Lois felt Superman's heat vision sweep her from head to   
toe. Belatedly, she realized he was standing there in his   
Clark Kent attire although she hadn't seen him change. He   
pushed his glasses back into place and rang the bell.  
  
**********  
  
"Sit down, kids." Perry White gestured Lois and Clark to   
seats in his den and closed the door. "Can I get you   
anything to drink? Coffee?"  
  
Lois shook her head. In the warm light of his desk lamp,   
her mouth looked tight. She was about to do something she   
didn't want to do, Perry thought, but she would do it   
because she thought it was important. Lois could be   
volatile and temperamental at times but when the situation   
warranted it, she could be tougher than any man in the   
newsroom, her partner and his alter ego included.   
  
"I need to tell you the whole story of what happened five   
years ago," she said. "Claude apparently got wind of   
what's going on--maybe someone on the legal staff said   
something. He spoke to me tonight and threatened to use   
it--and his imagination--to ruin my reputation if I went   
ahead with the Kerth thing."  
  
"Bill Ross wouldn't have said anything," Perry said.   
  
"Well, somehow Claude found out. Anyway--" Lois drew a   
deep breath and appeared to gather her courage. "Five   
years ago, I thought I was in love with Claude Chabert--"  
  
Perry listened in silence as Lois spoke, explaining clearly   
what had happened five years before that had allowed Claude   
to steal her story, and then what had happened this   
evening. As she spoke, he watched the expression on her   
face, which revealed probably more than she realized what   
it cost her to tell him the full story. When she had   
finished, he nodded slowly.  
  
"I can't say I'm surprised," he said. "Honey, I know why   
you didn't, but I wish you'd come to me at the time."  
  
"So do I," she said, unexpectedly. "I just didn't think   
anyone would believe me."  
  
"I know, but I still wish you had. Still, better late than   
never, and to tell you the truth, I'd kind of figured it   
was something like this. Do you still want to go ahead?   
If you do, you're going to have to tell this story to a   
lawyer--and the Kerth Committee."  
  
Lois nodded. "I know."  
  
"You're willing to do that?"  
  
"After this evening, you bet I am."  
  
Perry found himself grinning slightly in sheer admiration.   
"Good for you. You say Harry overheard the whole thing?"  
  
"That's what he said."  
  
"Good. It sounds like Claude may have miscalculated a bit.   
I'm going to make a few phone calls, and I'll get back to   
you after I've talked to some people about it." He paused   
a moment, watching her face. "Lois, what you told me   
tonight took a lot of courage. Personally, I think Claude   
Chabert is a first class louse. He took advantage of your   
youth and inexperience to win an award he didn't deserve,   
and now he's willing to try to destroy your reputation to   
keep it. I've met people like him--fortunately not often--  
and they make me sick. I re-read that article, yesterday,   
and I knew as soon as I saw it who had written it. Your   
style is very characteristic. The only thing in that   
article that's his, as far as I can see, is his name. I'm   
willing to testify to the fact and I think once the Kerth   
Committee sees samples of your writing style and Claude's,   
they won't have any doubt about the real author--but we'll   
keep Harry in reserve, just in case."  
  
"Thanks, Perry." She glanced at Clark. "I guess you were   
right."  
  
"About what?" Perry wanted to know.  
  
"She was worried what you'd think of her," Clark said. "I   
told her what happened says more about him than her."  
  
Perry gave a bark of mirthless laughter. "That's for   
sure." He got to his feet, glancing at his watch. "Alice   
is at her bridge club meeting and probably will be for a   
while longer. I still have time to make those calls."  
  
"I guess we better get out of your way, too," Clark said.   
"Lois managed to shake Nunk this afternoon, and he's   
probably staking out my apartment, waiting for me to come   
back. We shouldn't disappoint him."  
  
"Check for bugs," Perry advised.   
  
"I will."  
  
"You two and Superman need to get together and think of   
something to convince the Whisper's publishers that Nunk is   
wasting their time and money," Perry said. "I'm sure the,   
um, three of you will think of something, eventually." He   
saw Clark cast a sharp look at him and hoped his veiled   
message had gotten through. "When his readers lose   
interest, he'll have to drop it, you know." He met Clark's   
eyes for a bare instant. "If I can help any--besides with   
legal matters--let me know, okay?"  
  
"We will," Lois said.   
  
A few moments later, he ushered them out and walked slowly   
back to his den. He wasn't sure he'd been right to hint to   
Clark that he knew, but at least now, the boy would know   
that he could ask for help if he needed it. Now, for those   
phone calls...  
  
**********  
  
"He knows, Lois," Clark said. Somehow, the knowledge   
wasn't as scary as he thought it should be.   
  
Lois glanced back at the house. "If he does, he won't say   
anything."  
  
"I know." Clark also turned to look back at Perry's home.   
Lights glowed softly behind the shuttered windows and he   
saw his boss's shadow cross one of them as he headed back   
toward the den. "For a minute I wasn't sure, but the way   
he looked at me--"  
  
"Well, if anybody would figure it out, he'd have the best   
chance," Lois said. "He can see most of the newsroom from   
his office and he's had to notice how you take off at   
strange moments."  
  
"I just hope nobody else has," Clark said.  
  
"I doubt it. Even Nunk must be starting to have his doubts   
by now, if he ever really believed it in the first place."  
  
"I don't think he did. I think it's just the usual   
sensationalism as far as he's concerned." Clark moved into   
the deeper shadow of the hedge and spun into Superman.   
"Let's go get your Jeep, shall we?"  
  
She let him pick her up and a few moments later, they were   
above the clouds. Lois snuggled against him.  
  
"Mm, you're nice and warm."  
  
He grinned. "Maybe I should take you flying in cold   
climates more often."  
  
She laughed. "Men! You're all alike."  
  
"Even me?"  
  
"We...ll, maybe not exactly. I have to admit you were   
right. You're not a typical male, even if you have a lot   
in common with most of them."  
  
"Do I?" he asked.  
  
"You bet. Like you said, you're a normal guy except for a   
few extras. Must be that Kansas upbringing."  
  
"Well, I was a pretty ordinary kid--at least until I first   
noticed my powers starting to come in. Then things got   
anything but ordinary."  
  
"I'll bet. Still, in everything but your super powers,   
you're normal even if you're not exactly ordinary now. You   
know, there's still a lot I don't know about you. I guess   
I'll have a long time to find things out, though."  
  
"All your life, if you want to."  
  
"I do," she said.  
  
"Just keep that phrase in mind," he said, daringly. "I   
want you to remember it when the time comes."  
  
She was silent for a long moment and he was beginning to   
wonder if he'd said too much when she spoke again. "I'll   
try to--if you're sure you really want me."  
  
"Is there still any doubt?" he asked. "There's only one   
woman in the world for me, and that's you. No one else   
even comes close to measuring up."  
  
"What about Mayson?"  
  
Clark shook his head. "I like Mayson. She's a good   
person--but if she knew the truth, you know she'd be afraid   
of me. Besides, I don't love her. After I saw you, there   
was never a doubt of which woman I wanted for the rest of   
my life. It's not something that's going to change."  
  
"You mean it, don't you," she said, wonderingly. "I guess   
I just don't understand why."  
  
He gave her a hug. "I can give you about a million reasons   
if you have the time to listen, but I think one's good   
enough. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.   
There's no other woman on Earth like Lois Lane. My mom   
knew right away that I'd fallen hard. Ask her, sometime."  
  
She touched his face with one hand. "Are other men this   
irrational?"  
  
"I don't know. But, I'm not 'other men'."  
  
"That's for sure. I guess I'll have to remember that 'I   
do' thing."  
  
"Don't think I'll let you forget," he told her.   
  
"I won't."   
  
They flew in silence for a moment, then Lois spoke.   
"Tomorrow, I'd like to start a little closer examination of   
Hurst--and Neville Elliott's clinic, too. I think there's   
a good chance we could get a lead on Diana. If she's about   
to get a new face from Elliott--"  
  
"Yeah," Clark agreed. "I keep thinking I've heard   
something along that line happening to someone else   
recently."  
  
"You did," Lois said. "You might not have paid much   
attention. I didn't either but I've been thinking about it   
and I finally figured it out. Remember Juan Arista?"  
  
"*That's* what I was trying to remember," Clark said. "The   
Colombian drug lord who turned up in France a few months   
ago, right?"  
  
"Right. New identity, new face, new job. Everyone thought   
he was dead."  
  
"Maybe we've stumbled across a bigger story, here."  
  
"I was wondering about that," Lois said. "Lex did say   
Elliott had his uses. Giving criminals new faces would be   
a pretty lucrative sideline."  
  
"It might get a little dangerous--unless you had a   
syndicate like Intergang behind you," Clark said. "I guess   
we'd better start snooping around tomorrow. I hope your   
ankle doesn't slow you down."  
  
"It won't if I can help it," Lois said. "All we have to do   
is figure out a way to shake Nunk again."   
  
It was now late evening and rush hour traffic had begun to   
diminish somewhat. When they reclaimed Lois's Jeep from   
the public parking lot, the crush of cars had thinned out   
enough that she had no difficulty making her way back to   
Clark's apartment in reasonable time. As she pulled the   
Jeep up to the curb, Clark lowered his glasses and glanced   
around. "There he is."  
  
"Where?--Oh, I see him. I guess he decided to bring the   
van this time, huh?"  
  
"Well, it's still raining," Clark pointed out.   
  
"Who's inside?" she inquired.  
  
Clark lowered his glasses and checked again. "Nunk and the   
cameraman. They've spotted us, too."  
  
"Remember what Perry said. Check for bugs."  
  
"You bet I will." Clark leaned over and kissed her lightly   
on the lips. "Be careful driving home on these wet   
streets."  
  
"I'll be fine," she said. "If you-know-who needs to go   
out, can you do it without him seeing you?"  
  
"Yeah, I'll go out the back. I'll just have to be sure   
there aren't any bugs around to tell him I'm gone. Call me   
when you get in, would you?"  
  
"Clark, you're being a mother hen."   
  
"Sorry. I worry about you."  
  
She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was trying not   
to smile. "Okay, I'll call you. Happy now?"  
  
"Well, some."  
  
Lois sighed gustily. "Men! Kryptonian men!"  
  
Clark grinned slightly. "Sorry."  
  
She began to laugh. "Good night, Clark."  
  
**********  
  
Clark waited on the front steps until Lois had driven off,   
studiously not looking at the unobtrusively parked van   
containing Nunk and his cameraman. In spite of his   
apparent lack of awareness, however, his super-hearing was   
trained on the occupants of the van.  
  
"What's he doing?" Nunk's voice demanded, impatiently.  
  
"Just standing there, watching Lane drive away," the other   
man's voice replied. "Look, boss, I think we're wasting   
our time. This stuff about him being Superman is stupid   
and we both know it."  
  
"If you'd get that mike working, we might have been able to   
hear what they were saying!" Nunk snapped. "Where did you   
get your certification in this stuff--out of a Cracker Jack   
box?"   
  
"It *is* working," the other man's voice snarled back. "In   
case you hadn't noticed, it's raining pitchforks out there,   
we're at least three hundred yards away, the car motor was   
on and their windows were closed. All I could pick up was   
engine noise. Besides, what did you want to do--listen to   
a pair of lovebirds while they bill and coo? Next time   
*you* can listen in when they get back from a date! You'd   
get some kinda charge out of that, wouldn't you? You know,   
you're really sick, Nunk."  
  
"Are you working for the right paper, Michaels?" Nunk's   
voice said. "We're here to make a story. Kent's going to   
sell a lot of papers for us. Trust me, he'll never find   
the bug this time."  
  
"Yeah, right. You're going to look like an idiot when he   
turns out to be a normal guy. Kent's no more Superman than   
I am."  
  
"Who cares? If he is, we're gonna find out and plaster it   
on the front page. If he isn't, we'll cook up something   
between them. Either way it'll sell."   
  
"In other words, you're trying to ruin the guy's life."  
  
"So? It'll sell papers. We'll get hold of Hank's Photo   
Lab and have 'em doctor up some pics of Kent, Lane and   
Superman in bed. It'll make a scandal that people will   
want to buy."   
  
Silence. Then Nunk's voice said, "Where do you think   
you're going?"  
  
"Out."  
  
"It's raining out there, stupid."  
  
"Yeah, well if I don't get out of here I'm gonna throw up.   
This isn't journalism. I quit; you can do your own dirty   
work."   
  
The rear door of the van opened and the photographer   
emerged, wrapped in a raincoat. He splashed off into the   
darkness without looking back.  
  
Slowly, Clark unlocked the door of his apartment and went   
in. A thorough scan of the place located Nunk's bug on the   
overhead brick arch near the window seat. Well, it   
wouldn't do for him to find it too soon but that didn't   
mean he had to let Nunk listen in on his activities. He   
switched on the television and located an ancient grade B,   
late night horror movie marathon. Then, with a delicate   
touch, he removed the bug from the arch, laid it next to   
the television and turned up the sound. Satisfied that   
Nunk would have his fill of screaming damsels-in-distress,   
man-eating zombies and killer slugs over the next few   
hours, he very quietly changed to Superman and departed by   
way of a rear window. It was time Superman was seen about   
town and if he happened to drop by Lois's apartment on the   
way, that wasn't such a bad thing, was it? Besides, he   
needed to let her know the latest development. Things   
seemed to be careening out of his control and how they were   
going to deal with Nunk's latest brainchild he didn't know.   
Maybe Lois could figure out what to do about it.  
  
**********  
  
Lois had barely entered her apartment when she heard the   
tapping on the window and a quick glance showed her the   
silhouette of a tall man floating just beyond the glass.  
  
She dropped her purse on the nearest chair and went to open   
the window. "Checking up on me?" she inquired as Clark   
floated through and dropped to the rug.  
  
"Nope. Just a minute." She saw him turn his head and   
realized he must be scanning her apartment for listening   
devices. "The place is clean," he said, at last. "I guess   
we can talk. I wanted to let you know what I overheard   
before I take off for a patrol of the city. I eavesdropped   
on Nunk while you were driving away--" Quickly and   
concisely, he repeated the conversation between the two   
tabloid reporters. "I stuck his bug next to my TV and left   
Nunk listening to Invasion of the Moss Men. Do you have   
any ideas about how to deal with this?"  
  
Lois was frowning. "Hank's Photo Lab? I've never heard of   
them, but if the Whisper deals with them, they can't be   
very reputable. They're probably one of those places that   
manufacture phony pictures of aliens talking to the   
President and stuff. Jimmy would be able to find out. I'm   
going to give him a call."  
  
Clark glanced at the wall clock. "It's past ten."  
  
"My bet is that he's still awake. Besides, this is   
important."  
  
Jimmy answered on the second ring. "Hello?"  
  
"Hi, Jimmy, it's Lois."  
  
"Oh, hi." Jimmy's voice was slightly thick as if he were   
chewing something. She heard him gulp. "Sorry, I was   
eating popcorn. What's up?"  
  
"Clark and I need some information. Have you ever heard of   
Hank's Photo Lab?"  
  
"Hmm--no, I don't think so. Why?"  
  
"Well, we think we have a little problem. You know that   
tabloid snoop who's been following Clark around?"  
  
"Leo Nunk? Yeah, he tried to get me to talk about Clark,   
yesterday morning. I wouldn't, though."  
  
"Well, Clark heard him talking to his photographer--"  
  
When she had finished, Jimmy didn't speak for several   
seconds. When he did, his voice had taken on an angry   
note. "That piece of--" He bit off the last word. "I'll   
find out about this Hank's Photo place for you. Will   
tomorrow morning be soon enough?"  
  
"That would be great. I hope I didn't wake you up."  
  
"Nah, I napped a while ago. I'm watching an old horror   
marathon that's supposed to run until three in the morning.   
My favorite is just coming on right now--Queen of the   
Killer Swarm."   
  
"Sounds interesting," Lois said. "Try to get some sleep   
too, though."   
  
"I'm going to bed when it's over," Jimmy assured her. "I   
always try to see it whenever it's on. The plot isn't   
much, but the beach scenes are great and the actress who   
plays the queen is really sta--"  
  
"I think I get the picture," Lois said. "Good night,   
Jimmy."  
  
Clark was sitting on the sofa behind her when she hung up,   
still wearing the bright red, blue and yellow of Superman.   
He gave her a half-smile. "Well?"  
  
"Didn't you hear what he said?"  
  
He shook his head. "No."  
  
"He's never heard of the place, but he'll find out about it   
for us by morning. If it's one of those shops that make   
fake photographs, at least we're a step ahead of Nunk.   
We'll be ready for the Whisper if they do something like   
that."  
  
"So, what do you think we should do?"  
  
Lois sat down next to him. "I think the first thing is to   
prove to the satisfaction of everyone that Clark Kent and   
Superman aren't the same person. Then, if the Whisper   
tries a sleazy stunt like Nunk was talking about, we get   
the evidence that it's a fraud and prove it. I think Perry   
would go along. You know what he thinks of the Whisper."  
  
Clark grinned. "That's true. I feel a lot better, now. I   
knew I could count on you."  
  
"I do my best."  
  
"I know. I don't know what I'd do without you." He got   
reluctantly to his feet. "I suppose I'd better go. I want   
to make sure a lot of people see me tonight while Clark   
Kent is supposed to be asleep in his apartment."  
  
Lois stood up and followed him to the window. "Are you   
going to get any sleep tonight?"  
  
"Yeah. I don't need as much as other people but I'll sleep   
for a couple of hours when I get back."  
  
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly. "Be careful."  
  
He slid his arms around her and turned the kiss into   
something a good deal more intense. When he lifted his   
head, she drew a deep breath. "Wow."  
  
"Yeah." He released her. "I need to get going. Are you   
picking me up tomorrow morning?"  
  
She took another breath, still feeling slightly light-  
headed. "I'll be there at the usual time."  
  
He frowned slightly. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah. You pack quite a wallop, you know?"  
  
He kissed the tip of her nose, smiling a little. "So do   
you. I better get out of here while I'm still thinking   
straight. There isn't anybody listening, tonight."  
  
She watched a few seconds later as he disappeared into the   
darkness, and closed the window against the pounding rain.   
Outside, lightning flashed and was followed a few seconds   
later by a rumble of thunder.   
  
She'd wondered for a while if she could handle the   
challenge of being the partner and wife of Superman, but   
she was beginning to see why he thought she could. He   
needed and depended on her far more than she had realized.  
  
Slowly, she walked back toward her bedroom for a quick   
shower before bed, still thinking hard. She knew she   
wanted him, but had hesitated because of her doubts.   
Filling the role of Superman's partner was a challenge, but   
when had she ever backed off from a challenge? He had more   
confidence in her than she did, it seemed. If he was that   
sure he needed her, maybe he was right. Besides, why   
shouldn't she be a little selfish? She wasn't going to be   
happy without him and he'd made it pretty clear that he   
wasn't going to be happy without her. Wasn't it important   
to keep Superman happy and motivated? The world would   
certainly benefit from that, after all. It was almost her   
duty, if she thought about it that way.  
  
She was rationalizing, she knew, but this time the activity   
didn't leave her with that faintly uneasy feeling that it   
usually did when she knew underneath that she was wrong.   
This felt right.  
  
"Okay, Clark," she whispered. "If you're willing to take   
the chance, I am."  
  
**********  
  
The movie marathon was just winding up when Clark returned   
to Clinton Street. Nunk's van was still parked down the   
street and he checked the inside of the vehicle with his x-  
ray vision. Nunk was still there, all right, sound asleep,   
with a recorder running. Clark grinned slightly, slipped   
back into his apartment and snapped off the television. He   
picked up the bug and crushed it in his hand. When Nunk   
woke up, he'd have a nice audio recording of a bunch of low   
grade monster flicks but that was all. With luck, his   
enthusiasm for chasing the team of Lane and Kent around the   
city would suffer a setback.  
  
Quickly, he showered, pulled on a pair of sleeping shorts   
and slipped into bed for a couple of hours' sleep. It was   
going to be a busy day.   
  
**********  
  
Nunk's van was gone when Lois picked him up the next   
morning. The storm had diminished to a light mist and the   
clouds were already breaking up overhead. The day promised   
to be brisk but sunny. Lois drove through streets washed   
clean of debris by the overnight storm, and past the front   
of the Daily Planet.  
  
"See him anywhere?" she asked.  
  
"Not so far," Clark said. "I hope he's finding Attack of   
the Brain-Sucking Parasites entertaining."  
  
Lois giggled. "Me too. He's got a lot in common with   
them. I'm going to park in the lot on Bailey Street,   
though. I know it's kind of a long walk, but maybe he   
won't find the car if it's a ways from the Planet. All I   
need is for him to mess with it again."  
  
"Don't blame you," Clark agreed. "How does your ankle feel   
these days?"  
  
"Better," she said. "I'm supposed to get it x-rayed next   
week. It's too bad they won't let you do it for me."  
  
He glanced at the ankle and lowered his glasses. "It's   
getting there. Another couple of weeks and you can   
probably progress to a sprain wrap."  
  
"That'll be a relief," she said. "Darn, it looks like the   
lot is full."  
  
He looked over at it. "I think so. There's another lot   
over on Hill."  
  
"That's two blocks farther," Lois said. "Oh well, we're   
early--"  
  
As might have been expected, Perry was already there when   
they entered the newsroom some time later but there was no   
sign of Claude. Their editor was speaking to a slender,   
grey-haired man when they stepped off the elevator and he   
beckoned to them at once.   
  
"Who's that?" Lois wondered as they hurried down the ramp.  
  
"Bill Ross from Legal," Clark said.   
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I met him when you got suspended that time."  
  
"You didn't say anything about that."  
  
Clark shrugged. "It turned out I didn't need to. You got   
yourself out of it."  
  
"Oh, yeah."  
  
"Lois, I want you to meet William Ross, from Legal," Perry   
said as they approached. "Bill, this is Lois Lane."  
  
Ross extended a hand. "It's nice to finally meet you, Ms.   
Lane. I've heard a lot about you." He nodded to Clark.   
"Good to see you again, Clark."  
  
"Bill wants to hear the story you told me last night."   
Perry said. "You can use my office."  
  
Clark took her hand. "Do you want me along, Lois? Or--"  
  
She shook her head. "I can do it on my own, this time. It   
doesn't seem as scary, now."  
  
He nodded. "Okay, but if you change your mind, all you   
have to do is yell."  
  
"I know. Thanks, Clark." She released his hand and turned   
determinedly to the lawyer. "Let's get this over with."  
  
Clark watched as they made their way to Perry's office.   
His boss gave him a reassuring nod. "She'll be okay,   
Clark. She's got more guts than any guy in the office."  
  
"I know," Clark said.  
  
"So, anything new on the Nunk front? Or the death of Diana   
Stride?"  
  
"Uhh--" He hesitated. "Actually, a little of both. Could   
we talk somewhere private?"  
  
"Sure. We've got a meeting in twenty minutes but until   
then Conference Room 2 is clear."  
  
He glanced once more in the direction of Perry's office,   
but Lois didn't seem in need of help, so he followed his   
editor into the conference room. When the door closed, he   
shoved his hands in his pockets. "I overheard Nunk talking   
last night--"  
  
Perry knew how to listen, he thought as he described what   
he had heard. He asked no questions until Clark had   
finished. "Jimmy's going to hunt down this photo lab?"  
  
"He said he'd have it by this morning."  
  
"Well, he's not in yet, but that doesn't mean anything. I   
agree with Lois. First things first."  
  
"So do I. I haven't seen Nunk this morning. He wasn't in   
his usual spot."  
  
"Oh, that. I guess I forgot to mention it," Perry said,   
offhandedly. "I told Security to have him arrested for   
loitering if he showed up. It might take a little while   
for his paper to bail him out--especially after his   
'expose' on the local police station a couple of months   
ago. I hear he isn't in very good odor with them."  
  
"I don't want to know," Clark said with a faint grin. "On   
the subject of Diana Stride, Lois and I need to do a little   
snooping. We think Diana may still be alive."  
  
"You got any evidence to support that?"  
  
"Some," Clark said. "First and foremost, no one ever found   
a body. Even Superman searched and nothing but the   
suitcase turned up. The police and Coast Guard are still   
searching, too. Lois and I think it may be an elaborate   
scheme to convince everyone that she's dead. She's a   
skilled assassin; they might think she's too useful to   
dispose of, and they almost certainly don't want her in   
prison. If she talks, she could do them a lot of damage."  
  
"They could just kill her," Perry said. "It wouldn't be   
unusual."  
  
"True," Clark agreed. "It could be like that, but they   
went to a lot of trouble to break her out when they could   
just have eliminated her. We think it would be worth it to   
do a little checking. If it doesn't pan out, we can still   
use our lead on her contact to dig into Intergang."  
  
Perry nodded. "That sounds reasonable. Keep me updated."  
  
"We'll do that, Chief."  
  
His boss smiled slightly. "I want you to know, Clark, that   
anything you say to me about--well, you know--that other   
thing won't go any farther unless you tell me it can. I   
know a little about keeping secrets, too."  
  
Clark nodded. "I know that. I don't think I ever doubted   
it."   
  
"I just wanted to tell you."  
  
"I appreciate it, sir. In a way, it's a relief. I don't   
like to lie, even when it's necessary."  
  
"I know, son, but I think you've been right to do what   
you've done. Media attention wouldn't help what you're   
trying to accomplish, at all. They'd be all over you,   
every minute of the day. If you think Nunk is bad, it's   
not even a tenth of the trouble that people knowing would   
cause. If I can ever help you, don't be afraid to ask."  
  
Clark looked at his shoes, trying not to grin. "Thanks,   
Chief. I won't. I might need to--when Lois and I put our   
plan into action."  
  
"Just let me know." Perry glanced at his watch. "We   
better mush. It's almost time for the staff meeting. I   
hope Lois is done talking to Bill Ross."  
  
"She just finished."  
  
"How do--oh, right. Well, if there's nothing more you need   
to tell me, I'll get things started here. Any sign of   
Jimmy?"  
  
"Yes, sir. He just came in a minute ago. He might have   
been checking out Hank's Photo Lab."   
  
"Yeah, probably. Why don't you go talk to him? Meeting   
starts in five minutes."  
  
**********  
  
Jimmy was coming down the ramp when Clark left the   
conference room. Clark beckoned him over to his desk just   
as the door of Perry's office opened and Lois appeared,   
followed by the lawyer. The man shook her hand and headed   
toward the ramp. Lois was looking much better than she had   
after the interview with Perry last night, Clark noted with   
relief. She was even smiling.  
  
"Staff meeting in Conference Room 2 in three minutes!"   
Perry's bellow announced.   
  
Jimmy arrived at Clark's desk with a triumphant look on his   
face. "I found the photo lab, CK," he said, without   
preliminary. "The shop's on Third Street. It's not real   
legit, but they do good work--you know, fake passports and   
so forth. I pretended I was looking for a job and got a   
chance to see some of what they have. It's exactly the   
kind of place Lois thought it was."  
  
"What was?" Lois asked as she came to a stop by Clark's   
desk.  
  
"Hank's Photo Lab," Jimmy said. "Here's the address." He   
handed Clark a slip of paper. "They've got all kinds of   
stuff there to manufacture any kind of document you want,   
and their computers are something else. If they don't have   
digital compositors for faking pictures, I'm Superman."  
  
"Better watch it, saying stuff like that," Lois said.   
"You'll have Nunk breathing down your neck."   
  
"Let me at him," Jimmy said. "I'm not as nice as you, CK."   
He glanced at the stream of employees heading into the   
conference room. His gaze lingered on Louise whose skirt,   
this morning, bordered on the illegal. "I better get to   
the meeting. I'll tell you more about what I saw, later."  
  
He turned and headed for the conference room. Lois took   
the slip of paper. "This place might be ripe for an expose   
after all this is over," she said.   
  
"Maybe. But let's wait--If Nunk uses it to fake a photo of   
us--"  
  
"Right. We don't want him to have to find another place."  
  
"Exactly--" Clark raised his head. "Uh oh."  
  
"What?"  
  
"They've got a problem at the airport. There's a small   
plane that's circling, and can't get its landing gear   
down."  
  
"Go," Lois said. "I'll cover for you at the meeting."  
  
**********  
  
"Nice of you to join us, Lois," Perry said as she entered   
the conference room. "Where's Clark?"  
  
"He had to return a video," Ralph piped up, looking   
innocent.   
  
Lois ignored him. "There's an emergency at the airport and   
he took off to cover it. I said I'd take notes for him."  
  
"Oh, okay. Too bad some of my other reporters aren't as   
gung ho as Kent," Perry said, casting a significant look at   
Ralph. "If you'll have a seat, Lois, we'll get on with   
this."  
  
Lois took the one remaining seat that happened to be beside   
Ralph--or maybe it wasn't such a coincidence, she thought   
an instant later. Perry was speaking.   
  
"Now, regarding the recent elopement of the Crown Prince of   
Tabulistan and his stripper girlfriend--"  
  
Louise choked suddenly and started to cough. Ricardo,   
sitting next to her, slapped her on the back but her   
coughing only became more violent and her face began to   
turn red. She stumbled to her feet and made for the door,   
managing to gasp out a promise to return before she made   
her exit, still coughing.  
  
Lois glanced after her, and saw her heading toward the   
water cooler. "I hope she's all right."  
  
After a moment, Perry resumed speaking. "Okay, back to   
business, everyone."  
  
Jimmy raised a hand. "Chief, I'd like to go see if she's   
okay."  
  
Perry nodded. "Go."   
  
Jimmy got quickly to his feet and departed.   
  
"Ricardo," Perry continued, "I thought you were following   
up on the elopement story."  
  
"I'm waiting for a call back from my contact," Ricardo   
said. "He's supposed to get back to me in about half an   
hour."  
  
Perry nodded. "I need it in time for the afternoon   
edition."  
  
"You'll have it."  
  
"All right. Lois, you and Clark are still following up the   
Diana Stride story?"  
  
"Yes," Lois said. "Clark talked to Lieutenant Billings   
yesterday. The police are still searching for survivors.   
Superman hasn't given up yet, either."  
  
"Okay. Now, the explosion in the homeless shelter..."  
  
Jimmy opened the door to the conference room and held it   
for Louise. The girl entered, eyes fixed on the toes of   
her shoes. Jimmy followed her in, a grim set to his mouth.   
"Chief, we've got our spy. When I got out there, she was   
talking to Nunk on her phone." He held up a cellular   
phone. "Here. All you need to do is hit redial."  
  
**********  
  
Clark still hadn't returned when the meeting let out. Lois   
walked slowly back toward her desk, Jimmy beside her, while   
Louise was marched firmly into Perry's office with their   
boss. Jimmy glanced over his shoulder after them in time   
to see the door close. "I can't believe Louise was spying   
on CK."  
  
"Nunk tried to bribe my repairman to let him open up my   
Jeep," Lois said. "Not everybody withstands temptation the   
way he did."  
  
"Yeah, but she liked CK!"  
  
"Evidently, not enough," Lois said. She stretched out her   
uninjured leg. "Have you seen Claude this morning?"   
  
"Claude? Oh, you mean the French guy? Nope, not since   
yesterday, about noon. He was talking to some scuzzy   
looking character in front of the deli, when I was bringing   
back doughnuts for the office."  
  
"He was here last night," Lois said. "Any chance he's gone   
back to France?"   
  
Jimmy grinned. "Who knows? The Chief could probably tell   
you. Why?"  
  
"Oh, I just wondered."  
  
"Hey, look at that!" Ralph said. He was staring at the   
newsroom monitors. Lois turned, in time to see Clark, in   
full Superman regalia and with a look of grim determination   
on his face, emerge from a burning building, a small child   
wrapped in his cape. He handed the wailing toddler over to   
a paramedic and turned to dive back into the fire once   
more. A voice over described the tenement building on the   
edge of Suicide Slum and the rickety structures around it.   
Fire fighters trained streams of water on the flaming   
building and a hodgepodge of bedraggled figures watched the   
scene from behind police lines, some hugging small children   
or pets, others gripping a few meagre belongings that they   
had been able to grab.  
  
That was *Clark* walking through those flames, rescuing   
people, Lois thought as Superman emerged again, this time   
carrying an old woman, who in her turn clutched a small,   
frantically yapping poodle. It was her partner saving   
those people's lives. This was the man who wanted her as   
his wife, who relied on her to help him deal with problems   
that couldn't be solved with invulnerability or super   
speed. It was about time she gave him a solid answer, she   
thought. She'd implied a lot, but never given him a firm   
yes or no.. She'd do it as soon as he got back to the   
office. But, in the meantime...  
  
After a moment, the monitors shifted to another scene, this   
one involving some kind of marathon race in New York. Lois   
turned to Jimmy. "If I know Clark, he's probably covering   
the fire--if the problem at the airport is over," she said.   
"Come on."  
  
"Where are we going?" Jimmy asked.  
  
She took her coat from the rack and slid into it. "Neville   
Elliott's clinic," she said. "Grab your camera. We're   
going to do a little snooping. I'll fill you in on Clark's   
and my theory on the way--"   
  
**********  
  
The New Beginnings Clinic was situated in a small valley   
located in the rolling hills west of Metropolis proper. An   
hour after leaving the Planet, Lois pulled the Jeep to a   
stop on a low promontory, looking down on the facility.   
She got out, speaking over her shoulder to her companion.   
"Jimmy, there's a pair of binoculars in the glove   
compartment. Get them for me, will you?"  
  
"Sure." Jimmy opened the metal door and had to catch the   
flood of papers that cascaded into his hands. "Sorry--wow,   
what a lot of traffic tickets!"  
  
"Parking tickets," she corrected him absently. "Hurry up,   
will you?"  
  
"Just a minute." He ruffled through the tickets and   
several maps before locating the binoculars at the very   
bottom of the pile. "Here."  
  
"Thanks." She accepted the binoculars and lifted them to   
her eyes, leaving Jimmy to pick up the tickets. She really   
had to pay those off, she reflected absently, before the   
traffic court issued a warrant for her again.  
  
There were several buildings below them, surrounded by a   
stone wall enclosing a section of land perhaps the area of   
a city block or slightly more. Across the compound, the   
wall appeared to have been built against the side of the   
hill itself. Inside, Lois saw perfectly manicured lawns   
dotted by tall, graceful trees and low-growing shrubbery,   
and she counted the tiled roofs of four small structures.   
Behind them, a long, low, white building stretched half the   
length of the enclosure and beyond its tiled roof, she   
could see a pleasantly landscaped patio and lawn. Gardens   
just beginning to leaf out were separated by white, brick-  
lined walks and small, shaded tables with white, metal   
chairs were placed here and there on the patio, and some of   
them were occupied.  
  
Lois had selected these binoculars for their power, not   
grudging the price, and now she was glad she had. She   
adjusted them and the scene below her leaped in close.   
There were a number of figures moving around the garden or   
seated by the tables and she focussed on them.  
  
Two of them were either nurses or attendants, she thought.   
They were women dressed in white uniforms, wearing light   
sweaters against the chill of the early spring air. She   
identified a tall, thin man who was walking along one of   
the paths as Neville Elliott, himself and as she watched,   
he stopped to speak to one of the persons sitting at a   
table.  
  
It was a woman, she realized, but only by her shape. She   
wore slacks and a blouse, but her face and head were   
swathed in white bandages. As a matter of fact, there were   
a number of persons wearing bandages, although many did   
not. Some wore ordinary street clothing and others   
bathrobes, and moved with care. Those were probably the   
ones who had had cosmetic surgery in other places than   
their faces, she thought, cynically, and wondered if the   
day would come when she would want to resort to such   
measures--not that she'd be able to afford to do so.   
Cosmetic surgery was a little out of her income bracket, at   
least at the moment. Not, she thought, that Clark would   
mind. She had the feeling that to him, she would remain   
beautiful to the end of her days.  
  
Jimmy was peering downward as well and after a moment, she   
passed him the binoculars. He lifted them to his eyes,  
  
"Wow," he remarked, after a moment. "If Diana Stride is   
down there, how will we ever know?"  
  
"If she is, they might not have done anything to her face,   
yet," Lois said. "She escaped from jail just yesterday   
morning. They may not have been able to finish all the   
preparations yet, and I can't see Diana wanting to risk her   
face to even the most skilled plastic surgeon without   
adequate preparation."  
  
"That's for sure," Jimmy agreed. "So, if she's there, we   
might be able to find her."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"So, what do we do?"  
  
"We're here to interview Dr. Elliott," Lois said. "Let's   
go."  
  
"Are you kidding?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"No. I want to get a look at the place from the inside.   
The Planet does puff pieces on prominent citizens of   
Metropolis every now and then. If we show up and pretend   
we're here for an interview, my bet is that he'll agree   
just to get rid of us as fast as he can without making us   
suspicious."  
  
Jimmy looked doubtful. "I don't know, Lois. He's going to   
be nervous if Diana's there--especially with your   
reputation."  
  
Lois gave that all the attention it deserved. She got back   
into the Cherokee. "Come on. Remember, we're just doing   
an interview."  
  
**********  
  
"Thank you, Superman." The fire chief's face was smeared   
with soot and perspiration, but there was an air of triumph   
about him. "We appreciate the help. I don't think we'd   
have gotten everyone out if you hadn't been here."  
  
Clark wiped soot from his face. "I'm happy I could help."   
  
"There's one fire fighter whose wife will be pretty   
grateful," the man said. "Thanks to you, Brown is going to   
be all right. They took him to Metro General for smoke   
inhalation and some minor burns, but it was just a   
precaution. He would have been dead."  
  
"I'll try to drop by and see him this evening, if they keep   
him," Clark said. "I'm just glad no one was killed." He   
glanced at the milling crowd of suddenly displaced people   
and the volunteers moving about among them. "I wish I   
could do more to help these people."  
  
"You've done enough," the man said. "Let someone else take   
over, now. Thanks again."  
  
"You're welcome." He looked down at his filthy clothing.   
"I'd better go get cleaned up."  
  
It was just noon, he noted as he arrowed up from the scene   
of the fire. Clark Kent couldn't possibly return to the   
Daily Planet looking like this. He was going to have to   
make a quick stop at his apartment for a shower at the very   
least, then he and Lois could head for the New Beginnings   
Clinic. Briefly, he wondered if Nunk had managed to get   
out of the local jail yet, but acknowledged that his paper   
had most likely bailed him out hours ago.  
  
A quick check of his place reassured him that no one was   
there and that no listening devices had been planted since   
this morning, and he whisked quickly inside. A ten-second   
shower was just what he needed.  
  
He was just stepping from the shower, drying his hair, when   
he heard the rattle of his door and knew, even before he   
checked, who it was. Leo Nunk was working quietly on his   
door with a lock pick.  
  
It took less than a second to dress and only a few more to   
dial the police on his cellular phone. This was one time   
that Superman was not going to make the capture if he could   
help it.   
  
**********  
  
Lois was nowhere in the building when he returned to the   
Daily Planet rather more than an hour later. He came down   
the ramp in a businesslike way, looking around for Jimmy.   
Hopefully the young photographer could tell him where she   
was.   
  
Jimmy wasn't to be seen, either, but Perry was speaking to   
the editor of the Sports section and looked around as Clark   
reached the newsroom floor. "Clark, come into my office."  
  
That was fast, he thought, but obeyed. Perry closed the   
door behind them. "Nice work on those stories," he began,   
referring to the articles Clark had phoned in from the   
airport and some time later from the fire. "Good Superman-  
saves-the-day stuff. Good quotes, too."  
  
"Thanks, Chief," Clark said, wondering where this was   
heading.  
  
"Jimmy caught our spy," Perry continued. "Apparently Nunk   
bribed Louise to let him know when you were leaving the   
newsroom."  
  
"Louise?" Clark said, slightly dismayed.  
  
"Yeah. She confessed the whole thing. Apparently she's   
having some financial problems and the temptation was too   
much," Perry said. "And, before you say it, no, I'm not   
going to fire her--but I gave her a warning. If she screws   
up again, she's out."  
  
"I guess that's fair," Clark agreed, relieved. "I have   
another article to write up, Chief--probably just filler   
material."  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"The arrest of prominent tabloid reporter Leo Nunk for   
breaking and entering."  
  
Perry's eyebrows flew up. "Do I want to know what   
happened?"  
  
Clark shrugged. "He broke into my apartment and I called   
the cops. They're holding him on suspicion of a string of   
burglaries in the neighborhood. That part wasn't my idea,   
by the way."   
  
Perry laughed. "Good work, son. He'll be out on bail   
again before you know it, but it's worth it, even just for   
the irritation factor."  
  
"I thought so." Clark said. "By the way, where's Lois?"  
  
Perry shrugged. "She took off out of here with Jimmy,   
right after the staff meeting."  
  
Clark glanced at his watch. "That was over four hours ago.   
Did she say where they were going?"  
  
"No. They'll probably be back soon."  
  
**********  
  
"I told you, I don't have any record of the appointment,"   
the receptionist was saying, stubbornly. "Dr. Elliott is a   
very busy man."  
  
"Look," Lois said, allowing a note of annoyance to creep   
into her voice, "I'm not responsible for your hospital's   
errors. This appointment was confirmed two days ago! My   
editor is going to be upset if I don't come back with an   
interview. Why don't you just ask Dr. Elliott if he'd be   
willing to see us? It won't take more than fifteen minutes   
of his time and it'll save me the trouble of coming back   
again. This interview is supposed to be in the Sunday   
edition's 'Famous Citizens of the City' feature."  
  
"Well--" The woman's resolve was clearly wavering. "I   
suppose I could--"  
  
"I'd appreciate it," Lois said. "And could you ask him if   
my photographer can take a few pictures, just to illustrate   
the article? One of him, and a few of the clinic, say?   
And maybe one of some of his staff?"  
  
"I guess it would be all right," the receptions said, still   
looking a little doubtful. She pushed a button on the   
console in front of her. "I'll page him, but Dr. Elliott   
will have to make the decision."  
  
"Of course," Lois said. "That's all I'm asking for."  
  
She sat down in one of the comfortable chairs provided in   
the waiting room and leaned back, relaxing. Jimmy copied   
her, looking less at ease. Silence fell as they waited for   
Dr. Elliott to answer his page. Five minutes passed, and   
then another five. The receptionist smiled mechanically at   
them and picked up a magazine.  
  
There was a soft chime and she set down her reading   
material. "Yes? Yes, Doctor, they're waiting right   
here...Right away, sir." She looked up at Lois and Jimmy.   
"Dr. Elliott has a few minutes. Go right through that   
door." She pointed. "His office is on the left."  
  
The door led to a long, empty hall. Doors on either side   
were closed and faintly, Lois could hear the faint murmur   
of voices from somewhere.  
  
"Maybe I'm being paranoid," Jimmy said, softly, "but I have   
a question before we go in there."  
  
"What?"  
  
"How did Dr. Elliott know what the page was about? The   
receptionist didn't say a thing to him about us except that   
we were waiting here. She didn't even say we were   
reporters."  
  
Lois paused. He was right. Sometimes Jimmy surprised her.   
  
"You have a point, Jimmy." She frowned, thinking. "I have   
an idea. There's a men's room down the hall. Here--" She   
handed him her cellular phone. "Call Clark's desk phone   
and leave a message. Tell him where we are. Then come to   
Dr. Elliott's office."  
  
Jimmy nodded and headed for the men's room. Lois continued   
on to Dr. Elliott's office and, taking a deep breath,   
raised her hand and knocked.  
  
"Come in," Elliott's voice said.  
  
Lois opened the door. "Dr. Elliott?"  
  
"Ah, Ms. Lane." Elliott's cadaverous face wrinkled in the   
caricature of a smile. "How can I serve you?"  
  
"Um--yes." Lois took her recorder from her bag. "As you   
may know, the Daily Planet has a monthly Sunday feature:   
'Famous Citizens of the City'. We try to do our interviews   
a couple of months ahead of time, to allow for problems. I   
was told this was arranged in advance, but your people   
don't seem to have any record of the call."   
  
The doctor shrugged eloquently. "We've had some staff   
turnovers, Ms. Lane. It's possible the call was taken by a   
new employee."  
  
"I suppose so. In any case, do you have a few minutes to   
answer a few questions?"  
  
"Certainly. But didn't you have a companion?"  
  
"My photographer," Lois said. "He needed to make a detour   
to the men's room. He should be here in a minute."  
  
"Very well. Why did you pick me, Ms. Lane?"  
  
Lois smiled. "Well, you're a very successful member of   
Metropolis's business community," she pointed out. "I   
thought of you for this feature that weekend at the Mystery   
Mansion, actually. So, why did you pick Metropolis?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"What made you choose Metropolis for your practice?"  
  
The doctor smiled again, reminding her of a grinning skull.   
"For the same reason many businesses are based here, Ms.   
Lane. Metropolis is a center of commerce and culture--and   
many people in need of my services."  
  
"I see." Lois glanced around at the sound of a knock on   
the door. "That must be my photographer."  
  
Jimmy came in, nodding at her. "Sorry, Lois. I guess you   
were right about that fast food place. I'll never have one   
of their breakfast sandwiches again."  
  
"Or anything else," Lois said. "I think the Board of   
Health should have closed them down months ago."  
  
"Yeah." Jimmy managed to look embarrassed. "Before you go   
on, could I get a photo of you, Dr. Elliott? We'll want to   
feature it with the article."  
  
"Of course." Elliott sat up straight and smiled in what   
Lois supposed was a friendly way. Jimmy snapped a picture   
and then moved sideways to get another shot from a slight   
angle. "I'll want more, later, if that's all right."  
  
"Certainly." Elliott glanced at his watch. "If you don't   
mind, I need to make a tour of my patients on the patio.   
Three of them are scheduled to have their bandages removed   
this afternoon. If you'd like to come along, be my guest."   
He rose to his feet and turned toward a door that opened   
off the side of his office. "Why don't I give you a short   
tour of the clinic, as well? You can ask any questions you   
have on the way."  
  
Lois glanced uncertainly at Jimmy and then back at Elliott.   
It seemed as if the doctor was being nothing more than a   
gracious host, but a nagging voice in the back of her mind   
told her not to let down her guard. "That would be   
perfect."  
  
"Fine. Come this way, please." Elliott opened the door   
and gestured them ahead of him. Lois glanced at Jimmy   
again and proceeded through the door, Jimmy on her heels.  
  
Elliott closed the door behind them and the lock clicked.  
  
The room had no windows, and another door on the opposite   
side was locked as she discovered within seconds. When a   
fine mist began to fill the room from a vent high on the   
wall, she knew that the trap had snapped shut.   
  
**********  
  
Lois stirred uncomfortably. She was lying on a hard, cold   
surface and her body was chilled and stiff. Her head felt   
muzzy and the traces of a headache throbbed behind her   
eyes. She couldn't seem to think.  
  
Somewhere, someone was breathing harshly and after a   
moment, she realized that she was the one making the   
sounds. She opened her eyes to complete darkness, but just   
the motion made her head spin. With a faint groan, she   
closed them again. For a time, she floated on a tide of   
misery. Her stomach roiled and complained and for a little   
while she thought she was going to lose whatever remained   
of her breakfast, but slowly the nausea receded and with it   
the muzzy, confused feeling. Gradually, her ability to   
think began to return and she lay still, listening.   
  
The silence around her pressed in on her and she could feel   
the blood surging in her ears with every beat of her heart,   
but slowly, the feeling of normalcy was returning.   
Somewhere, not so far away, she could hear breathing.   
  
She held her breath, trying to determine if this was just   
another auditory illusion, but the faint sound continued.   
Someone was breathing only a few feet from her. She lay   
still, trying to piece together her last memories. They   
had been talking to Neville Elliott and he had tricked them   
into that closed room, and then there had been gas...  
  
She and Jimmy had been neatly trapped and the person   
breathing nearby was probably Jimmy. At least, if it was   
Jimmy, they were both still alive, although that might not   
be for long...  
  
There was a scraping noise. Light blazed suddenly in the   
room, painful to her eyes even through her closed lids.   
She wasn't sure what was happening yet, but if whoever was   
coming thought she was still unconscious it might give her   
a slight advantage.  
  
She lay still, trying to breathe heavily. Footsteps came   
toward her--two sets of footsteps. Then Elliott's voice   
said, "I told you. They're still out cold."  
  
"I wanted to be certain," a woman's voice said and Lois had   
to exercise all of her will not to jerk open her eyelids.   
It was the voice of Diana Stride. "You're sure their   
editor has no idea where they are?"  
  
"If he does, it doesn't matter. They'll be found dead in a   
ditch on the way back to Metropolis, the victims of an   
automobile accident." Elliott's voice was indifferent.   
"Some on my staff have spoken to them so they have to be   
seen driving away. It will be the perfect opportunity to   
dispose of the first snoop at the same time."  
  
"You think ahead," Diana's voice said.   
  
"Of course I think ahead." Elliott's voice sounded testy.   
"The French reporter was a fool, but I couldn't take the   
chance. He was snooping around the edges and knew just   
enough to be dangerous. He might have made the connection,   
eventually. Then, when my guards spotted these two spying   
on us from the hill, I knew we'd have to take care of them   
at once. If they were looking for him, it would be bad   
enough that they traced him here. I don't believe it was   
just by chance that they turned up here at just this time.   
In any case, by the time we stage the accident, all traces   
of the drug will be out of their systems and any head   
trauma they sustain will be attributed to the crash. Even   
if someone is suspicious, no one will be able to prove a   
thing--and, of course, as a prominent citizen of   
Metropolis, they won't dare accuse me without some solid   
proof."  
  
"Just make sure they can't get out of here," Diana said.   
She nudged Lois with her toe. "I have a score to settle   
with this one. I'll take great pleasure in knowing that   
she's dead."  
  
"And a month from now you will have been relocated, with a   
new background and a new face, having left all this   
behind."  
  
"Just make sure you do a good job," the assassin's voice   
said, tartly. "I have no intention of going through the   
rest of my life as a crone."  
  
"You needn't worry," Elliott said. "It would be a pity to   
make you less than the work of art you already are, my   
dear."  
  
"Why, thank you, Doctor." Diana said. "Let's get out of   
this depressing place, shall we?"  
  
The footsteps retreated, the light went off and Lois heard   
a door open and close. She was left in darkness again.  
  
She pushed herself up on her elbows, straining her eyes.   
It was utterly black; not the faintest beam of light   
penetrated the room. She lay still, trying to get her   
bearings and thinking.   
  
"The French reporter" sounded very much like Claude. Why   
*had* Claude come back to Metropolis, anyway? There had   
been that Colombian drug lord who had turned up in France   
with a new face. Could there be a connection? Had he been   
trying to find the source of the new appearance and   
background for Juan Arista? It sounded as if he had been   
at least sniffing around in the general area--and perhaps   
asked the wrong people the wrong questions.  
  
The breathing was coming from her right. Slowly, she   
rolled to her hands and knees and began to feel her way   
forward, listening intently. The breathing paused for an   
instant and she heard the faintest of moans then the sound   
resumed.  
  
She had fought the gas, she now recalled, trying to breathe   
through her handkerchief, trying to breathe shallowly as   
the stuff settled around her. She had seen Jimmy fall, and   
finally the world around her had faded out. In any case,   
for some reason she had awakened before him. Maybe she   
simply hadn't reacted to the gas like he had but whatever   
the cause, she was awake before they expected her to be.   
Maybe she could use that fact to better their situation.   
If she didn't figure out something, she and Jimmy, and   
probably Claude were going to be dead--if Claude wasn't   
already. Probably he wasn't, she thought. If Elliott   
intended to fake an accident for all three of them, he had   
to be alive. A difference in the times of death would give   
them away for sure.  
  
And all was not lost. Jimmy had phoned Clark and left a   
message. If Clark checked his phone calls, he'd be here to   
look for them when they didn't turn up--assuming, of   
course, that Superman wasn't kept busy all day. There were   
times when she chafed at his protectiveness, but now she   
hoped and prayed that he would become worried about their   
prolonged absence and start to look for them. Even if he   
didn't check his phone, he knew that she had wanted to   
check out Dr. Elliott's clinic, today. He might figure out   
that that was where she and Jimmy had gone.  
  
She moved forward another few inches, feeling blindly ahead   
of her, and her fingers came in contact with a shoe. The   
shoe was on a foot and she felt her way up the leg and body   
to the leather jacket that Jimmy had been wearing earlier   
today. Jimmy was lying on his face and as she shook his   
shoulder as hard as she could, he moaned again.  
  
"Jimmy! Wake up!"  
  
No response. She shook him a second time with no better   
results.  
  
Stymied for the moment, she sat still, thinking. Jimmy   
would wake up, given time, but if she was going to use the   
narrow advantage she had, she needed to do something else   
besides sitting here, or crawling around blindly in the   
dark. Was there any way she could get some light without   
alerting those outside that she was moving around?  
  
Her purse was gone, of course. Elliott or his goons   
probably had searched both of them for anything they might   
be able to use for escape, which meant her cellular phone   
was also gone. Cautiously, she began to feel in her   
companion's pockets for anything she might be able to use.   
There was his wallet. His key ring was clipped to a belt   
loop, containing keys, the little metal tag stamped "Daily   
Planet", and something that felt like a plastic dog head.   
His front pockets were empty, except for a handkerchief.  
  
Discouraged, she sat back on the hard stone of the floor.   
It looked as if she was going to have to explore this place   
by touch...  
  
"Jimmy!" she whispered, hopelessly. "Please wake up!"  
  
The rhythm of his breathing faltered again and he moaned,   
softly.  
  
"Jimmy!" she whispered again. With more determination now,   
she shook his shoulder again and felt him stir under her   
hand. "Jimmy!"  
  
A long, indrawn breath. Then he gave a faint moan that   
resolved itself into her name. "Lois?"  
  
"Jimmy!" It was with difficulty that she kept her voice   
down. "Take some deep breaths," she directed in a whisper.   
"You've got to wake up!"  
  
Silence for a long moment, then Jimmy's voice said,   
faintly, "What happened? Where are we?"  
  
She had to remind herself of how she had felt when she   
first woke up. Jimmy would be feeling sick and disoriented   
right now. "Just breathe," she directed. "We're in   
trouble and I need your brain firing on all cylinders."  
  
Silence again. "I feel dizzy," Jimmy mumbled, his voice   
just barely audible. "They gassed us, didn't they?"  
  
"They did," Lois said, consciously keeping her own voice   
low. "They're going to kill us, too, if we can't figure a   
way out. Take some more breaths."  
  
She could hear him inhaling deeply. Other than that, there   
was no sound but the humming of blood in her ears. Time   
seemed to stretch interminably, although she was sure it   
had actually been only a few minutes. At last, Jimmy   
whispered, "Where are we?"  
  
"I don't know. Locked in a room, without any light."  
  
Silence again. "There's a penlight on my key ring," Jimmy   
said. "It looks like a wolf's head." She could hear him   
fumbling clumsily for the ring and an instant later, a   
blinding beam of light made her clap her hand over her   
eyes.  
  
The light went out. "Sorry," Jimmy whispered.  
  
"That's okay. Give it to me and concentrate on feeling   
better." Lois felt around until she found his hand and he   
pressed the key ring into her palm.  
  
She took it and felt the wolf's head carefully with her   
fingers. No wonder they had missed it, she thought. The   
plastic wolf's head felt like one of those things people   
put on their key rings to make them easier to locate. No   
one would have guessed the wolf's head was actually a   
flashlight. The beam of light it produced probably wasn't   
even all that bright, in actuality. It merely looked   
bright to them because their eyes had adapted to absolute   
darkness.  
  
"How do you turn it on?" she whispered.  
  
"Push the right ear forward," Jimmy said. He took another   
deep breath. "I'm starting to feel a little better."  
  
Lois shaded her eyes with one hand and pushed on the wolf's   
ear. The light wasn't quite so blinding to her shaded eyes   
and she squinted, letting them adjust.  
  
She had been right, she thought. The little penlight   
wasn't really very bright, but compared to the utter   
darkness of their present location it was more than enough.   
She flashed it around the room.  
  
They weren't in the room where they had been gassed, she   
saw. These walls were bare of wallpaper and looked like   
rough, concrete. The roof was perhaps a foot or two higher   
than a tall man and cobwebs clung to it everywhere. Lois   
shuddered as she saw a good-sized spider scurry along a   
strand, fleeing from the light.  
  
Quickly averting her eyes from the spider, she flashed the   
pale beam over the walls. The room was perhaps ten feet by   
ten feet with a single door in one of the windowless walls.   
There was no way out. They were still trapped.  
  
"We're stuck," Jimmy said, bleakly. "I sure hope CK gets   
our message before it's too late."   
  
"Me, too." Lois went to the door and turned the knob.   
Locked, of course. Hopelessly, she flashed the pale beam   
of light around the room once more. The little penlight   
was terribly inadequate, but it was sure better than   
nothing, and besides, it was all they had. From above, a   
dangling strand of spiderweb brushed her neck and she   
shivered. She didn't want to look up at the collection of   
webs and their inhabitants. Besides, there was nothing up   
there to see.  
  
"Lois, shine the light on the wall near the ceiling," Jimmy   
commanded suddenly.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Over there--opposite the door," Jimmy said, pointing.  
  
She obeyed. The pale beam barely illuminated the stone and   
she knew the little battery wouldn't last long. This thing   
was more a toy than anything else.  
  
"To the right, just about a foot," Jimmy said.   
  
"Jimmy--"  
  
"To the right," Jimmy insisted. "I think...Look, Lois, I   
think it's a vent."   
  
In the dim illumination, with the cluster of cobwebs, it   
was difficult to tell, but there was a shadow of something   
there. Lois moved closer, peering up at the wall. A   
grating covered a dark, square hole, perhaps two feet by   
two, in the wall a foot or so above her head. She looked   
at it doubtfully. "It's awfully small."  
  
Jimmy got uncertainly to his feet, and it was obvious that   
he was balancing precariously as he made his way to her   
across the stone floor. He looked up at the hole and then   
at her. "I think my shoulders are a little too wide to   
make it through," he said, "but, I think you could do it."  
  
Lois studied it for several seconds, measuring it in her   
head. Jimmy was right. It would be a tight squeeze but   
she would probably be able to fit. Barely.  
  
"Do we have anything to get the grating off with?" she   
asked.  
  
Jimmy nodded at the keys. "Those." He sank down onto the   
floor again and leaned back against the wall, closing his   
eyes. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be able to help   
you."  
  
Lois reached up. She would be able to reach the fasteners   
of the bottom of the grate but not the top. She could work   
on those, though, at least until Jimmy was steadier on his   
feet. The fasteners were some kind of rivet, she realized,   
peering at them in the gloom. Placing a finger on one, she   
switched off the pale, little light. By touch, she located   
the longest, thinnest key on the ring and brought the tip   
to the rivet. This was going to have to be done blind.   
The battery of the wolf head light wasn't going to last   
long under any circumstances. There was no point in   
wasting it. With great care, she began to pry at the   
rivet, trying to work the tip of the key under the thing.  
  
It was easier than she had thought. The rivet came loose   
and fell to the floor with a soft ping.  
  
"What was that?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"A rivet. The stone seems pretty soft." Lois was feeling   
along the bottom of the vent as she spoke and an instant   
later encountered another rivet. This one was a little   
harder to pry loose but it finally came grudgingly free.   
Now, the third...  
  
There were a total of four rivets holding the bottom of the   
grating in place and Lois had pried them loose within   
minutes. Standing on the tips of her toes, she felt   
carefully up along the sides but found no more of them.   
Checking with the tiny flashlight, she saw that her fingers   
fell perhaps an inch short of the top. "Jimmy, are you   
feeling any better? I can't reach the ones on the top."  
  
"Some." Jimmy got slowly to his feet, balancing with one   
hand on the wall. "I think I can reach it. Give me the   
key."  
  
Lois obeyed. Jimmy reached up, locating the rivets and let   
the light go off. Lois stood still, shifting her weight   
nervously between the athletic cast and her good foot,   
listening to the faint scraping sounds Jimmy made with the   
key. After a moment there was the familiar clink of a   
rivet hitting the floor and a short time later, another.   
Lois tried to count the seconds in her head, but in the   
dark, time was a relative thing. She found herself   
wondering how long they had been unconscious in the dirty,   
little room. The dial of her watch was invisible in the   
utter black. Perhaps, by now, Clark had gotten Jimmy's   
message and was on his way to save them. It wasn't   
something they could rely on, however.   
  
Another rivet hit the floor with the now-familiar clink and   
suddenly there was a grating, metallic screech that made   
her hair attempt to rise from the roots.   
  
"What was that?" she whispered while her ears were still   
ringing from the sudden sound.  
  
"The grate swung down on the last rivet." The pale beam of   
the flashlight came on, showing her that what he said was   
true. The grate had pivoted on the remaining rivet, half-  
tearing it from the wall. It hung precariously by one   
corner and as she watched, the grating wobbled slightly and   
came free.  
  
Jimmy caught it before it could fall noisily to the floor   
and set it carefully down, then stood up again and flashed   
the rapidly dimming light into the hole. "Looks clear."  
  
Lois swallowed. The hole looked smaller than ever and the   
thought of possibly getting stuck in the cramped space made   
chills run across her scalp. Still, there was no other way   
out of this trap. She couldn't count on Clark finding the   
message before it was too late.   
  
"Now we find out if I've got the guts I always thought I   
had," she said. "Give me a boost, Jimmy."  
  
The young man smiled crookedly. "You do," he said.   
"Here." He handed her the key ring and laced the fingers   
of his hands tightly together. "Here you go."  
  
Lois swallowed again and nodded. Bracing one hand on his   
shoulder and gripping the edge of the hole in the wall with   
the other hand, she stepped into the makeshift stirrup and   
hoisted herself headfirst into the narrow passage. Jimmy's   
hands shoved her from behind and she wormed her way   
forward. She felt her foot leave his hand and heard his   
final whispered words. "Good luck."  
  
She didn't answer, but wiggled her way into the narrow   
hole. This had to be the scariest thing she had ever done,   
she thought. If she got out of this alive, she would never   
complain about Clark's overprotectiveness again.   
  
Slowly, she squirmed forward, inch by painful inch. It was   
completely, utterly black and she felt as if she was being   
crushed from all sides. The rough surface of the tunnel   
floor scraped her fingers and knees raw within the first   
few minutes and the only thing that gave her the courage to   
force herself through this dark hole was the knowledge that   
there must be an exit somewhere. Air got in so there had   
to be an entrance for it, didn't there? Besides, staying   
in the small, pitch-black room meant certain death, if   
Clark didn't get their message in time. Of course, she   
might be crawling straight from the frying pan into the   
fire, but any chance was better than none. She hoped.  
  
She pushed herself ahead through the tight, rectangular   
space, pausing every now and then to breathe. In one way   
the darkness was a blessing because she couldn't see the   
painfully narrow passage through which she was inching,   
propelled by her fingers and toes but in another it was a   
curse because it gave her the illusion that she was being   
smothered, and that was far too close to reality.   
Claustrophobia tugged at her nerves and she forced it down.   
This definitely wasn't the time to panic. Her life and   
Jimmy's depended on her ability to keep her head.  
  
The boy had surprised her, she thought, deliberately   
turning her thoughts to her companion in this mess. He   
hadn't hesitated for an instant in helping her to escape,   
even when he knew he couldn't. He had to be as scared as   
she was but all he had done was wish her luck. He was   
counting on her to get them both out of this. She wasn't   
going to let him down. She wasn't going to let herself or   
Clark down, either. If she died before she was able to   
give him his answer, she'd never forgive herself.  
  
She must be getting a little crazy; she reflected a moment   
later. That last thought had made no sense at all.  
  
Doggedly, she continued to force her body forward, inch by   
hard-won inch, breathing in short gasps. There wasn't room   
in here to take a deep breath. Then, suddenly the wall on   
one side of the tunnel was gone. She explored the gap   
cautiously with her free hand. It was a square opening   
about two feet by two feet, just as the entrance to this   
painfully tiny tunnel had been and not a trace of light   
leaked in from it. It almost certainly led to another   
small, dark room, very possibly locked from the outside.  
  
Reluctantly, she rejected the possible escape. If she   
dropped down into another room like the one she had left,   
she would never be able to get back into the tunnel.  
  
She squirmed on by, forcing herself forward flat on her   
stomach, pushing with her toes, fingers and knees. How   
long had she been at this, she wondered. It seemed like   
hours had passed. Had they found out yet that she had   
escaped, and if they had, what would they do to Jimmy?   
Would they be waiting for her at the exit?  
  
At this rate, she was going to drive herself crazy   
wondering about unanswerable questions. She just needed to   
concentrate on pushing herself ahead; each inch gained a   
small triumph.  
  
Another two by two passage opened to her right and again   
she passed it by. Escaping into another sealed room would   
do her no good.   
  
After another long, unmeasured period of wiggling forward   
flat on her stomach, she paused, blinking her watering eyes   
against the blackness. It felt as if she had been pushing   
herself along in the awkward imitation of an inchworm for   
hours on end. Colored sparks danced crazily in the air   
before her, the product of her own mind, she was sure, but   
was she imagining things or was there the faintest easing   
of the darkness in the passage ahead of her?   
  
Fixing her eyes on that very faint square patch that was   
more a lessening of the black than actual light, she crept   
gradually onward, panting, stopping when she had no breath   
left to breathe. Sweat rolled down her face, with the   
feeling of tiny insects crawling on her skin and she   
couldn't bend her arm back to wipe it away. She blinked as   
it ran stingingly into her eyes and wormed her way doggedly   
on.  
  
It was light, she thought, finally close enough to be sure.   
It was coming from the right, from another two foot by two   
foot square opening in the side of the ventilation shaft,   
very dim and indirect, but it was light. She stopped again   
to breathe, aware that the period of time between rests was   
becoming shorter. She was getting tired.  
  
The faintest murmur of sound echoed softly down the   
passage. She froze, listening. There was a faint click   
and then a regular, muffled noise that might be footsteps.   
All of them came from the right.  
  
Aware that if she could hear sounds, anyone out there could   
hear any sound that she made, she began to move forward   
again, very slowly and carefully, pausing every few seconds   
to listen. At last, she reached the opening.  
  
Peering around the corner, she could see a square of dim   
light at the far end, obscured by another grating like the   
one that she and Jimmy had removed. It looked like her   
best chance for escape. Praying silently that she wasn't   
making a mistake, she began to wiggle and squirm her way   
around the right angle and into the side passage.  
  
It was a very tight squeeze. Lois left shreds of both   
clothing and skin on the surface of the vent, but she   
rounded the corner at last and paused, still lying flat on   
the floor of her terribly narrow escape tunnel--at least,   
she hoped that was what it would turn out to be. Places   
where she had scraped skin hurt and sweat ran freely into   
her eyes. She blinked vigorously, trying to listen for any   
other sounds that might tell her what waited for her in the   
dimly lighted room beyond the grating but now there was no   
sound at all except for--  
  
A gentle breeze of air holding a faint scent that she   
couldn't identify brushed her face. There was a low   
humming sound ahead of her, but nothing else. Cautiously,   
more determined than ever not to make any sound at all, she   
scooted toward the grating.   
  
**********  
  
Clark left Perry's office, frowning. Ralph, passing by,   
nudged him in the ribs. "Get that video returned on time,   
Kent?"  
  
He turned to regard the other reporter with a raised   
eyebrow. "You know, Ralph, that joke was old a week ago."  
  
The other reporter simply grinned, shrugged and continued   
on his way. Mildly irritated, Clark crossed the room to   
his desk. Maybe Lois had left him a note, he thought,   
without much expectation of finding one. A glance at the   
desk, however, killed that very slight hope. His partner   
had never gotten into the habit of leaving notes. As he   
concluded that she hadn't left one this time, either, his   
phone shrilled. Hope surged again and he snatched up the   
receiver. "Clark Kent."  
  
"Clark?" his mother's voice said, "I tried to call Lois   
earlier, but they said she was out. I wanted to let you   
know that the 'project' that we were talking about last   
weekend seems to work fine."  
  
He had to shift mental gears. "Oh--right. I'll be out to   
pick it up as soon as I can. Thanks."  
  
"Is something wrong, Clark?" Martha asked.  
  
"Yes--no--I'm not sure," he admitted. "Lois has been out   
of the office for over four hours and nobody knows where   
she went. Maybe I'm imagining things, but I can't shake   
the feeling that she's in trouble."  
  
"Didn't she tell anyone where she was going?" she asked.  
  
"She never does."   
  
"Well, try her cellular phone," Martha said. "She carries   
one, doesn't she?"  
  
"Yeah. I was just going to. I just don't want her to   
think I'm trying to keep tabs on her."  
  
"Well," his mother said, "it's up to you, but if you're   
worried, I'm sure you can think of some reason to be   
calling. I'll hang up now and let you call her."  
  
He had to grin. His mom was probably the most practical   
person he'd ever known. "Thanks, Mom. I'll get back to   
you about the project."  
  
However, a couple of minutes later, he put down the   
receiver, having to remind himself not to squeeze the thing   
too hard. It would look funny if he left finger marks in   
the plastic. There was already far too much attention   
being paid to the connection between himself and Superman.   
Lois's phone was turned off. That was bad, he thought.   
She almost never turned the thing off, except at night.  
  
The blinking light that notified him that his phone's   
recording function had taken a call caught his eye but he   
ignored it for the moment, trying to think of some way to   
locate Lois. The conviction that she was in trouble was   
growing by the minute and he had to tell himself firmly not   
to let his imagination get the better of him. Where might   
she have gone? They had planned to investigate Theodore   
Hurst and to visit Neville Elliott's clinic today. Could   
she have gone to the Cost Mart manager's home or office?   
Or, just possibly, could she have taken Jimmy with her to   
visit the clinic?  
  
The light's blinking was annoying, and with a sigh of   
resignation, he lifted the receiver and punched the code to   
retrieve his calls. An instant later, he hit stop and   
repeat. Jimmy's voice, low and cautious, emanated from the   
speaker.  
  
"CK, It's Jimmy. Lois and I are at Dr. Elliott's clinic.   
Lois is going to interview him, but there's something   
screwy about the whole situation. I'm calling at--" a   
pause, "just after ten-thirty. We wanted you to know--just   
in case. Bye."  
  
He glanced reflexively at his watch. It was nearly one-  
thirty. He got to his feet, strode to Perry's office and   
knocked. Not bothering to wait for an invitation, he   
opened the door. "Chief, I think Lois and Jimmy are in   
trouble."  
  
Perry looked up from his computer screen. "What makes you   
think so?"  
  
"Jimmy left me a message. They were at the New Beginnings   
Clinic at ten thirty. He said he thinks there's something   
wrong."  
  
"Now, Clark, what could happen to them at a clinic?" Perry   
said. "Besides, this is Jimmy you're talking about."  
  
"But, Lois is there too. I don't have time to explain,   
Chief. We think the clinic is connected with Diana Stride   
and the attempt to convince people that she's dead. If   
she's got Lois--"  
  
"Hmmmph." For the first time, Perry looked worried.   
"You're right. The way Lois attracts trouble, you'd   
probably better go see. Just, be careful."  
  
"I will be." Clark turned and headed for the stairs.   
Ralph glanced after him.  
  
"Got to check out a hot library book, Kent?"  
  
Clark didn't pause, but disappeared through the door to the   
stairs. It took all his willpower not to shift into super   
speed right there in the stairwell, but a sonic boom at   
this point might not be such a good idea. Ralph had become   
too aware of his abrupt exits for him to willingly give the   
man any reason to connect him with Superman. He ran up the   
stairs, holding himself to a speed less than that of sound   
and a moment later, launched himself from the roof and   
headed directly west.  
  
**********  
  
She was looking down into a room filled with machinery of   
some kind. Peering through the grate, Lois could see the   
shadowy forms of big, bulky nondescript things, all humming   
quietly. Air conditioning? She doubted it. She'd never   
seen an air conditioner that looked like that. Power   
generators? Maybe. Wouldn't a hospital that performed a   
lot of surgeries need its own power, just in case? She   
didn't know but it seemed likely. More importantly, there   
was no one there. The room was lit only by a couple of   
tiny lights on the walls. If she managed to get out of   
this place, there would be no one to give the alarm.  
  
Speaking of getting out, that was going to be a real trick.   
Still, if this grating was held on the same way the other   
had been, it might not be so difficult to remove. The hard   
part was going to be getting to the ground without falling   
on her head. It was a good six foot drop, at least.  
  
Well, one thing at a time. She had hung onto the key ring   
for her entire journey through the vent. Now, she pushed   
the tip of the longest key into the space between the grate   
and the wall. Her leverage was bad and she hurt her hand   
but finally the key was positioned as she liked it and she   
put pressure on it.   
  
The rivet at the corner of the vent popped out with   
relative ease. The resulting gap made the other rivets   
successively easier until the entire bottom of the grate   
was loose. She pushed on it with her hands and the thin   
metal bent slowly outward until she could look straight   
downward. Her heart jumped. Directly below her, a heavy   
cart had been parked against the wall, covered with some   
kind of plastic sheeting. That made it easier.  
  
She slithered out of the ventilator shaft on her stomach.   
The metal of the grate scratched her back and tore her   
clothing--not that it mattered, as this suit would never be   
wearable again, assuming she survived this situation,   
anyway. Reaching ahead of her, her hands came in contact   
with the handle of the cart and she gripped it, praying the   
thing wouldn't roll, but apparently it had some kind of   
brake, for it jiggled only slightly. Hopefully, no one   
would come in at this moment because she would be   
absolutely helpless, hanging head down from the vent with   
half of her body still inside it. Slowly, she slid   
forward, trying to brace herself with her hands and direct   
her fall.  
  
She came down with a jolt across the cart, knocking the   
breath from her lungs, but she was out. Above her, the   
metal of the grate sprang back with a loud clang. Gasping   
for breath, she rolled off the cart and scurried into the   
shelter of one of the looming machines. Looking back, the   
traces of her exit from the shaft weren't particularly   
obvious. The metal of the grating was slightly bent, but   
that might not be noticeable unless someone looked hard at   
it and by that time, she intended to be out of here.  
  
For a moment she rested, crouching down behind the nearest   
machine, regaining her breath after the tremendous effort   
she had been putting forth. She could feel her heart   
beating light and fast in her throat with exertion and the   
awareness of danger.  
  
There were footsteps outside the room and a moment later   
the door opened, letting in a burst of light.  
  
"I know I heard something," a voice was saying. "If that   
thing is having another problem, I think we should take it   
offline. There's plenty of backup."  
  
"I don't hear anything," a female voice said. "Maybe it   
just burped again."  
  
"Maybe. You're right; it looks okay."  
  
The door remained open for another few seconds and then   
closed. Lois let out her breath.  
  
Still, it was obvious she couldn't stay here. On the other   
hand, she couldn't just walk out there, either. Her   
clothing was utterly filthy from her trip through the   
ventilation system. How was she going to get out of this   
place?  
  
Quietly, she crept forward to the door and put her ear   
against it. Except for the humming of the machines in the   
room and the faint sound of retreating footsteps, there was   
nothing. She was reaching for the handle of the door when   
she saw the orange jumpsuit hanging from a hook on the wall   
next to it. Protective gear of some kind? Whatever it   
was, it would provide her with cover for a few minutes   
until she could figure out what to do next. She pulled it   
from the rack and held it up against her body. A bit   
large, but all she was looking for was camouflage for a   
few, vital minutes. There was a hard hat hanging on the   
hook behind it. Even better. Her hair had to look as if   
she had been in a high wind after that trip through the   
vent. Quickly she unzipped the suit and jammed her feet   
into the legs.  
  
It was just as well the thing was too large for her, she   
was thinking a moment later. She should have removed the   
athletic cast, but fortunately the legging was big enough   
for her foot to slip through it and it covered the telltale   
cast well enough--just as long as she didn't stay out in   
the open long enough for people to get a good look at her.   
It was all very well to read spy novels about people   
wearing disguises and blending in with their surroundings,   
but in a small community like the clinic, it was quite   
probable that someone would realize it if a stranger   
appeared in their midst. She didn't intend to take the   
chance. As fast as she could manage, she shoved her arms   
through the sleeves, pushed them up to a reasonable length   
and zipped up the suit.  
  
Hmm, baggy, but it would probably do. Belatedly she   
fastened the cloth belt that dangled from the waistband,   
cinching it as tightly as she could. That was better.   
Clapping the hard hat on her head, she took a deep breath.   
Well, here went nothing.  
  
Cautiously, she opened the door and stepped out.  
  
She was standing in a hallway, brightly lit by fluorescent   
lights and for a moment she had to squint while her eyes   
adjusted to the new level of lighting. At the end of the   
hall, someone--a man, she thought--also in an orange   
jumpsuit, crossed the space and vanished into what was   
probably a connecting hallway.  
  
Where was she, she wondered. This didn't look like a   
hospital.   
  
Well, standing around wasn't going to do her any good. She   
took a moment to get her bearings, judging where the room   
where Jimmy was still located must be and started down the   
corridor to her right. It had to be in this direction,   
somewhere, but what on Earth did that small, dusty room   
have to do with this modern, brightly lighted hallway?   
There were no windows by which she could see out to   
identify her location, but this certainly wasn't the place   
where she and Jimmy had been when Elliott trapped them. If   
Clark was on his way, how was he ever going to find them?  
  
Resolutely, she shoved the worry away. One thing at a   
time, she told herself. Take it as it comes.  
  
Striving to maintain a casual attitude, she hurried down   
the hallway. The time she had spent in the vent and the   
distance she had covered were a little unclear in her mind.   
She was aware that her sense of time and distance might   
have been distorted because of the circumstances. Still,   
the room where they had been imprisoned had to be in this   
direction and the crossing at the end of the hall probably   
led the right way.  
  
Wherever she was, there obviously weren't many people   
around. Way back in the direction from which she had come,   
she heard footsteps and the closing of a door. Glancing   
over her shoulder, she saw no one and concluded someone had   
entered one of the rooms along the hallway behind her. A   
moment later, she reached the corner and turned right. The   
hall was surprisingly short with a door at its end.   
Certainly, she had crawled farther than the distance of   
this hallway after she had rounded the corner in the   
ventilator shaft. The room must be beyond that door, she   
concluded.  
  
It was locked, of course, she discovered a minute later,   
and footsteps were coming her way.  
  
A single door opened to her left and she twisted the knob   
without much hope. Surprisingly, the knob turned and the   
door opened inward. Lois stepped inside and pushed it shut   
behind her.  
  
Pressing her ear against the panel, she could just hear the   
footsteps approaching and prayed they weren't coming here.   
The sounds paused just beyond the door and she heard a   
clicking noise. Whoever it was, it appeared he was   
unlocking the end door.  
  
Quickly, she glanced around her hiding place. If whoever   
was out there decided to check on Jimmy and her, they were   
going to realize pretty fast that she was gone and start   
looking for her.   
  
Like the room where she had emerged from the vent, this one   
was lit only by the two small bulbs in the wall but there   
were no humming machines in it. Instead, there were   
shelves stacked with anonymous, green- and blue-wrapped   
bundles of some kind. Cabinets with glass doors stood on   
one side and inside were packages and boxes of what   
appeared to be medical equipment--so, maybe she was still   
in the hospital after all. She hoped she was. It would   
make it that much easier for Clark to find them. Here and   
there, sheet-covered objects stood about the room--some   
kind of machines, she thought. Maybe this was a storage   
room for surgical equipment or something.  
  
Outside the room, she heard the other door close sharply.   
The unknown person had gone through it. She plastered her   
ear against the door, listening. There was no sound out   
there, now.   
  
Cautiously, she opened the door a crack and peeked out.   
Nothing. The hall was clear.  
  
She glanced around the room again. Was there anything here   
that she could use as a weapon, just in case? The cabinets   
drew her attention. If the stuff in those packages really   
was surgical equipment, there ought to be a number of   
possibilities in the weapons department. Now, if only she   
could lock this thing for just a measure of security...  
  
Just below the knob was a simple latching mechanism. She   
had been listening so hard she hadn't even seen it. With a   
small gasp, she turned it and felt the bolt click solidly   
home.  
  
The tight feeling in her middle relaxed, although she   
hadn't been aware of it until then. At least, now she had   
some small measure of defense against the searchers.   
Quickly, she hobbled over to the cabinets. The wrapped   
instruments were labeled and so were the thin, plastic   
boxes. Those paper-sheathed items on the third shelf were   
scalpels--the thought of using a knife on someone made her   
stomach feel queasy and she rejected the thought. But   
there on the lower shelf was something called a probe.   
That might be useful on the door lock--assuming whoever was   
in there now left soon. Quickly, she opened the cabinet   
and appropriated the probe, ripping the paper from it with   
suddenly trembling hands. The lessening of tension had let   
some of her tightly held control relax as well and she was   
suddenly aware of the quivering feeling in her gut: the   
result of fear and tension too long restrained. Well, when   
this was all over, she could let herself fall apart, but   
not now. She turned her attention back to the search for   
some kind of tools to use to defend herself and Jimmy.  
  
Rubber tubing from one of the shrouded machines might be   
useful, too. She took that and tucked it into the front of   
her coverall. As for a weapon--short of the scalpels, she   
didn't see anything she could use. Well, there was no law   
that said she couldn't use them for other things, was   
there? Gingerly, she picked up one of the surgical knives,   
the razor-thin blade safely sheathed in its disposable   
cardboard cover, and tucked it into one voluminous pocket   
of the coverall along with the probe. Tiptoeing, now, she   
returned to the door and listened once more.  
  
For a moment there was silence, then sudden sounds of   
motion. A door slammed and footsteps departed down the   
hallway at a near-run. Whoever it was, she was willing to   
bet that he had discovered her absence, which meant the   
hunt for her was going to begin momentarily.   
Involuntarily, she glanced at the watch on her wrist. It   
read 11:14.  
  
For a moment, she couldn't believe it, and then she saw   
that the second hand was not moving. The watch had   
stopped. Somewhere along the line, it had broken. There   
was no way at present for her to tell how long she had been   
here.  
  
Well, the time to get Jimmy out was now. As soon as the   
sound of footsteps disappeared, she opened the door and   
peeked out.  
  
No one. Quickly she stepped out into the hall and tried   
the end door. It wasn't even locked. Whoever that had   
been, he had been in so much of a hurry that he had   
neglected to lock the door.  
  
She pulled it open and stepped within. Instantly, she   
understood the contrast between the modern hallway outside   
and the dirty little room where she and Jimmy had been   
confined. There was construction in progress here. The   
hall floor was of unfinished concrete with neither   
carpeting nor linoleum to cover its nakedness. The walls   
were unpainted and at the far end, it looked as if the   
hallway simply dead-ended. Several closed doors in one   
wall looked new and completely out of place amid the dirt   
and raw material on every side. This part of the building,   
whatever it was, couldn't be part of the modern hospital   
she had seen, she thought. Or could it? On second glance,   
the end of the hall wasn't stone or concrete. It was some   
kind of temporary material, the same color as the bare   
wall.  
  
But, she was wasting time and there might be very little of   
it at her disposal.  
  
There were five doors along one wall, all of them closed.   
Still, there was one way to find out which one Jimmy was   
in. She walked up to the first and knocked sharply.  
  
No answer. She proceeded to the next. On the third door,   
Jimmy's voice answered.  
  
"Leave me alone."  
  
"Jimmy!" she whispered.  
  
Silence. Lois inserted the probe into the door lock and   
felt for the tumblers. The lock wasn't a difficult one but   
the skin on the back of her neck and shoulders was crawling   
with apprehension. Someone could come back at any second.   
The search for her had probably already begun.   
  
The lock clicked back and she pushed the door open.  
  
Inside, Jimmy crouched on the floor, holding up one hand to   
shield his eyes from the light. He squinted at her for a   
startled instant. "Lois!"  
  
"Come on!" she whispered. "They're probably looking for me   
right now!"   
  
Jimmy was already on his feet. "Some guy was here a minute   
ago."  
  
"I know; I heard him. Let's get out of here!"  
  
Still shielding his eyes against the light, Jimmy stumbled   
toward the door. He paused in the doorway, looking quickly   
in both directions. "Which way?"  
  
Lois glanced back at the closed door and nodded toward the   
other end of the hallway. "That way. Just a minute,   
though. If they come back, maybe we can confuse things a   
bit."  
  
Having unlocked it, relocking the door was easier. She   
felt the lock snap closed on the first try and withdrew the   
probe. "Come on."  
  
Jimmy didn't ask questions but followed her obediently.   
They reached the end and Lois stopped, examining the   
material that blocked their way. "I thought so. This   
stuff is canvas held on a light plywood frame with some   
kind of heavy tape." She fished out the scalpel and knelt   
"Let's see if we can get through it."  
  
"If we have time." Jimmy glanced over his shoulder. Lois   
couldn't afford the luxury of even looking back. She   
concentrated on carefully cutting away the tape where it   
held the canvas to the bottom board, refusing to think   
about the time that was passing. If they could slip out   
without causing too much damage, maybe no one would realize   
that they had gone out this way. So far, there had been no   
sign of pursuit but Elliott was bound to have his people   
out looking for them in force, very soon. Hopefully, the   
locked door and the open vent would mislead the searchers   
for awhile.  
  
The sharp, little scalpel had been a good choice, she was   
thinking a short time later. The thin blade went through   
the tape cleanly and within a few minutes, she had freed   
one side of the canvas at the bottom from the thin slab of   
wood. Taking great care not to make unnecessary noise or   
to tear anything else loose, she pushed it gently open and   
peered out.  
  
A screen of tall, carefully manicured bushes, growing only   
a few feet from the opening, met her gaze. Where the heck   
*were* they? Still, there didn't seem to be any people   
within view. She slipped the cardboard safety sleeve back   
onto the knife blade. "Let's go. And for Pete's sake, be   
quiet!"  
  
Jimmy nodded. "You first," he mouthed silently, glancing   
back down the hallway again. "Hurry."  
  
Lois dropped onto her stomach and slid through the gap.   
Keeping down, she crawled out of the way, holding the heavy   
material back for Jimmy. He slid out quickly and rolled   
away from the hole. "Hurry," he breathed. "I think I   
heard footsteps."  
  
Hastily, Lois pushed the canvas back into place,   
straightening it as well as she could until it was   
relatively smooth. Hoping that it wasn't obvious from the   
other side, she turned back to her companion.  
  
"Keep down," she whispered. Now that they were out, even   
crouched down behind the screen of bushes, it was obvious   
where they were. They were in the hospital enclosure next   
to the part of the wall that was built into the hill, on   
the opposite side from the spot where they had first looked   
down on this place. They had come out of a door-shaped   
hole in the wall itself, one that would be invisible to   
anyone on the patio because of the close growing bushes.  
  
It was obvious that Jimmy had figured it out, too. Lois   
glanced back at their exit. What was going on in there?   
Why would the hospital need a secret complex built into the   
hill itself? This place was going to make a fascinating   
expose--if she lived to write it.  
  
A glance at the sun told her that she and Jimmy had been   
held captive for some time. It was already past noon.   
They had to get out of here somehow, she thought. Clark   
evidently hadn't gotten Jimmy's message yet, or Superman   
would have been here by now and if the two of them hung   
around for long, they were bound to eventually get caught.   
She had parked her Jeep in the visitors' lot in front of   
the main hospital building. Chances were good that it was   
still there; hadn't Elliott told Diana Stride that they had   
to be seen driving away? But they needed to get to it, and   
that was going to be difficult.  
  
Jimmy touched her arm and pointed silently. The row of   
bushes extended in both directions along the wall for some   
distance. They could use it as cover for part of the way.   
Lois nodded and began to crawl to the left. The direction   
would get them away from the populated area of the patio   
most quickly.  
  
It took perhaps ten minutes to work their way around to the   
part of the enclosure opposite the north wing of the main   
hospital building. So far, there hadn't been any sign of a   
search out on the hospital grounds. They were probably   
still looking around inside for her, but that wouldn't   
last, she knew. Sooner or later, they were going to   
realize that she had somehow gotten outside, someone would   
figure out what had really happened and the jig would be   
up. She and Jimmy had to get away from this area before it   
was too late. Peering through the bushes, Lois could see   
several men in white uniforms--orderlies, nurses or just   
hired muscle in disguise? she wondered--drifting toward the   
patio area. Time was running short, it seemed. It looked   
to her as if they intended to herd the patients inside so   
as not to alarm them when they started a full-scale search.   
  
On hands and knees, she continued to crawl forward. Their   
safety margin was disappearing fast, that was for sure.  
  
She nearly cried out when her hand came down on a large,   
jagged chunk of granite half buried in the soil and she   
stifled a gasp of pain. A bruised palm was nothing   
compared to what was waiting for them if they couldn't get   
away.  
  
"What's the matter?" Jimmy's whisper drifted up from   
behind her.  
  
"Nothing." She examined her hand. It was bleeding   
slightly, but the damage was only superficial. She sucked   
on the injury, peering ahead alertly. Ten feet in front of   
them, the hedge ended by a small grove of the tall trees   
that dotted the enclosure, shading one of the four, smaller   
structures. The searchers would probably expect Jimmy and   
her to try to hide in one of them, which was why she was   
headed for it. If they didn't give away their presence,   
they might be fortunate enough to find some camouflage for   
Jimmy...  
  
Aha! Lois congratulated herself tentatively. She'd been   
right. One of the white-coated men, holding what appeared   
to be a cellular phone in one hand, was crouching in a   
clump of three evergreens in the very center of the grove--  
a spot that would give him a clear view of anyone   
approaching the small building. If she hadn't been very   
alert, she might have missed him entirely. The search had   
definitely moved outside. Cautiously, she nudged Jimmy and   
jerked her head at the mostly concealed man. "Ever mugged   
anybody?" she whispered.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You need his clothes."  
  
Jimmy looked horrified. "I can't--"  
  
"Yes, you can. This is what you're going to do..."  
  
**********  
  
A few minutes later, Jimmy was inside the small grove of   
trees, circling slowly and cautiously around behind his   
target. The thin screen of branches seemed a very frail   
layer of protection from anyone who might be within sight   
of them, although the little cottage was mostly between   
them and the main part of the hospital enclosure. Trying   
not to envision what would happen to them both if he   
failed, Jimmy resolutely clamped down on the panic that   
tried stubbornly to rise in his throat. He had little   
doubt that they were both going to die. This plan of   
Lois's was likely to get them both killed but it was   
probably the only one that had the ghost of a chance of   
succeeding. There was no way they were going to get out of   
this place with all these guards around unless they had   
some kind of disguise. If only CK had gotten his message!   
He could have called Superman to come help them when they   
didn't show up back at the Planet in a reasonable amount of   
time. Not many people were aware of it, Jimmy knew, but CK   
and Superman were good friends and Superman was crazy about   
Lois--anybody with eyes could see that. If CK had called   
him for help, Superman would be here by now.  
  
But he wasn't. They were going to have to do this by   
themselves, or die trying. He wondered how CK managed it.   
He and Lois had gotten into and out of dozens of deadly   
scrapes since he'd come to work at the Planet and somehow   
he never seemed in the least unsettled by any of them, not   
even that crazy government agent he'd had to fight, last   
year. The only thing he ever seemed really worried about   
was Lois's safety. Jimmy wished he had CK's self-  
confidence.  
  
He moved forward with infinite care. If he rattled a   
branch, crunched or rustled a dry leaf or cracked a twig,   
he and Lois were done for. He was about ten feet from the   
man, now. If Lois hadn't pointed him out, Jimmy would   
never have seen him, crouched where he was. In position at   
last, he froze, trying to breathe softly. It was a darned   
good thing that there was a light afternoon breeze blowing.   
It was producing just enough sound that the guy couldn't   
hear him breathing and the faint rustling of the pine   
needles drowned out any other tiny noises. What seemed   
really surprising, though, was the fact that the guy   
couldn't hear the pounding of Jimmy's heart. It sounded   
like drums in his own ears, but it probably wasn't really   
audible to anyone else. It just seemed loud.   
  
Ready at last, he waited. The next part was Lois's.  
  
A moment later, he saw the orange jumpsuit come into view.   
Lois was creeping toward the private cottage or whatever   
this place was, trying to be quiet. He saw the guard   
stiffen and start to lift the cellular phone. He leaped   
forward and struck the man with the rock Lois had handed   
him a short time earlier, hoping that he didn't kill the   
guy, but determined that he wasn't going to give the alarm.  
  
The man went face down in the dirt, moaning. Jimmy landed   
on his back, intent on muffling any yells for help that he   
might make. Then Lois was kneeling beside him holding some   
kind of rubber tubing in one hand and the scalpel in the   
other. Where the heck had she gotten that stuff?  
  
"Pull off his pants," she directed in a whisper. "Then his   
coat. His undershirt, too. I'm going to need it." She   
placed her mouth next to the man's ear. "If you so much as   
peep, it'll be the last sound you ever make, whether or not   
we get caught. Is that clear?"   
  
The half-stunned guard nodded weakly, and Jimmy could see   
that he was looking at the scalpel. Lois wouldn't use it,   
Jimmy was confident, but their prisoner didn't know that.  
  
A short time later, they had relieved their victim of both   
his concealed handgun and his cellular phone and he was   
tied hand and foot with his arms around the trunk of one of   
the smaller trees in the grouping and gagged with his own   
undershirt. Jimmy made a face at the thought. That would   
be nasty, but they didn't have time to worry about such   
niceties at the moment. He finished buttoning the white   
jacket and made a last inspection of his new outfit. "Is   
that tubing going to hold his feet okay?"  
  
"I think so. It doesn't stretch." Lois tightened the   
man's belt another notch around his wrists and nodded in   
satisfaction. "That ought to keep him out of trouble long   
enough for us to get away." She reached out and retrieved   
the cellular phone. "Right now, I'm going to make a call.   
Watch for anyone coming."  
  
Jimmy nodded. Maybe they would manage to make it out of   
here alive, after all.   
  
He stayed crouched low, watching and listening as Lois   
punched in Clark's number. Silence followed, stretching   
his nerves so tight that he jumped slightly at the sound   
when she snapped the phone shut. "Clark doesn't answer.   
All I got was his recorded message."  
  
Footsteps were jogging toward them. Their prisoner gave a   
muffled grunt, jerking suddenly and Jimmy clamped a hand   
over his already gagged mouth. "Do that again and you're   
history!" he whispered.  
  
The bound man subsided. Lois and Jimmy remained still and   
silent as two men in the uniforms of orderlies hurried past   
barely fifteen feet away. When they had disappeared around   
the side of the cottage, Lois stuck the cellular phone in   
her pocket. "That was close. We need to get out of here.   
We can call Henderson as soon as we're safe." She rose   
quietly to her feet and Jimmy copied her. "Let's go. They   
might expect us to head for the Jeep, so we won't." She   
picked up the handgun. "I don't think it would be a good   
idea to leave this where he can reach it, do you?"  
  
Jimmy glanced at the other man and maintained his silence   
until he and Lois had cut through the small stand of trees   
and were out of earshot. Lois paused momentarily to   
discard the weapon under a low-growing bush and kick leaves   
over it.  
  
They peered out of the little grove, and Jimmy asked the   
question he had been waiting for the right moment to ask.   
"If we're not going to get the Jeep, what are we going to   
do?"  
  
"There are other cars out there," Lois said, quietly. She   
held up a key ring. "Looks like that guy drives a Toyota."  
  
**********  
  
The section reserved for employees' parking was a small   
area in front of the hospital, connected to the visitors'   
lot by a narrow driveway. Lois stood back by the corner of   
the building, trying to remain inconspicuous as Jimmy   
strode openly toward the lot.  
  
There were a number of cars parked there, none of them   
nearly as fancy as most of the ones in the other lot. From   
her vantage point, Lois could see the entire lot and out of   
some thirty cars, counted three Toyotas. At least Jimmy   
didn't have to check a lot of different vehicles to find   
the one that matched the key.  
  
The first car, of course, was the wrong one. Jimmy   
continued to the second and Lois let out her breath as he   
pulled open the driver's door. Trying to walk unhurriedly,   
she headed for the parking lot.  
  
She was nearly to the car when she heard the yell.   
  
A quick glance over her shoulder showed her three men in   
the white uniforms charging toward her across the lawn.   
The one in the lead was waving a handgun. Lois jerked open   
the driver's door and scrambled inside. The key was   
already in the ignition and Jimmy had scooted over into the   
passenger seat. The kid was learning, she reflected,   
absently. Nobody drove Lois Lane around, except possibly   
Clark, and certainly not in what promised to be a car   
chase. Where the heck was Clark? She started the engine   
and backed hurriedly out of the parking space, scraping the   
fender of the Ford in the adjoining space. Of course, her   
partner had no reason to expect her to be in trouble, but   
it would have been a good idea to check on her, just in   
case, she thought, blithely disregarding the fact that she   
frequently reminded him that she was a grown woman and   
capable of taking care of herself.  
  
The men were less than ten feet away as she jammed the   
gearshift in drive and gunned the motor. The little car   
leaped forward and Lois headed it straight for the exit.  
  
"They're after us," Jimmy said, a few seconds later.  
  
As she had expected they would be. Emerging from the   
narrow drive into the main lot, Lois slewed the Toyota past   
a guest's Mercedes. The shocked man at the wheel slammed   
on his brakes, but she barely noticed the squeal of the   
tires. The metal gates had begun to swing shut. She aimed   
directly for the opening, disregarding such irrelevant   
obstacles as the flowerbeds and rammed the accelerator to   
the floor.   
  
The little car responded with a burst of speed. They   
bounced vigorously over the curb, tore across a narrow   
stretch of grass and back onto the asphalt of the driveway,   
leaving deep ruts behind them. The sides of the car   
actually scraped the metal gates with an uncanny screech   
and then they were through. There was a clang behind them   
as the doors swung shut. It would give them a few seconds,   
but that was all. Lois glanced in both directions to   
assure herself that no one was coming but barely slowed the   
car as she took the corner on two wheels out onto the road   
that wound down from the hills to the east. In the open,   
she floored the accelerator again, determined to make as   
much of those few seconds as she could.  
  
Beside her, Jimmy let out a small gasp and a quick glance   
at him showed her that his eyes were squeezed tightly shut.  
  
She smiled grimly, returning her gaze instantly to her   
driving. The road ahead of them wasn't something she could   
afford to take her attention from at this speed.  
  
"Jimmy, open your eyes. I want to know what they're   
doing!" she demanded. The speedometer said that she was   
pushing eighty, which wasn't bad for a Toyota on an uphill   
track.  
  
Silence. Then, Jimmy turned cautiously in his seat.   
"They're just coming out the gate," he reported.   
  
"Good. That's better than I expected. Take the cell phone   
out of my pocket and call Henderson," she directed,   
tersely, "and let's hope it's not time for his coffee   
break."  
  
"It's one-twenty," Jimmy said. She could feel his hand   
reaching into the pocket of her coveralls. "Do they have   
coffee breaks at one-twenty?"  
  
"Who knows? Just hurry up and call him! Tell him that   
Diana Stride is at the hospital. That should get him   
moving!"  
  
The road curved sharply ahead of them and she concentrated   
on taking the turn as safely as she could without slowing   
appreciably. The hill was rising more steeply now and in   
spite of the fact that the accelerator was pushed flat to   
the floor, they gradually slowed to barely more than sixty-  
five. This could get exciting, she thought, ironically,   
when they got to the hairpin turns a few miles ahead. The   
only consolation was that the people chasing them would   
have to slow down, too, and she doubted that any of the   
hired help could drive like she could. As she thought   
that, they reached the top of the small hill and the road   
plunged into a valley. Their speed picked up at once and   
she had to consciously keep it under ninety. The tires of   
a light car had a tendency to lose traction at that speed   
and she didn't want to become suddenly airborne.  
  
Jimmy was talking on the cellular phone, trying to explain   
to the police operator, she thought. It didn't really   
matter as far as she and Jimmy were concerned. If they   
couldn't get away from their pursuers, they would probably   
be dead long before the police got here.  
  
The road turned again and she gritted her teeth as they   
screeched around it. Rock wall was suddenly on their right   
and she pulled them into the tight curve as it swept   
sharply the other way and was suddenly headed up the   
mountain.  
  
It wasn't really a mountain, she told herself. They were   
only in the foothills but it might as well be a mountain.   
To the left, the edge of the road was barely five feet from   
a cliff that dropped sharply away into space. To her   
right, the rock wall was nearly vertical, leaving her no   
margin for mistakes.   
  
"They're gaining," Jimmy reported.  
  
She risked a quick glance in the mirror. The car following   
them was the Ford that she had scraped when she backed out   
of the parking space. Its engine was undoubtedly more   
powerful than the Toyota's. If she was going to keep ahead   
of them, it was going to have to be because of her superior   
driving skills--and a fair amount of luck.  
  
"Superman, where are you?" she murmured, half to herself.  
  
"I wish I'd kept that watch," Jimmy said.  
  
"What watch?" She skidded them around another turn.  
  
"The signal watch. Remember when we were in Smallville?"  
  
"Oh, yeah." She glanced in the mirror again. The car was   
closer and gaining steadily. It wasn't a matter of driving   
skill. The fact was that the Ford simply had more   
horsepower than the Toyota.   
  
Jimmy had glanced back, too. "We're not going to make it."  
  
Lois didn't answer. She simply gritted her teeth and   
drove.   
  
The Ford was pulling up behind her, now. The driver leaned   
on his horn and in the side mirror, Lois could see him   
gesturing for her to pull over. She ignored it. There was   
no way she would let them get their hands on her and Jimmy.   
If she pulled over, they were done for. If she didn't,   
they would probably be killed, but there was always the   
chance that something would happen to save them at the last   
second.  
  
A jolt from behind nearly made her lose control. She   
fought the wheel, forcing the Toyota to stay on the road   
more by sheer determination than anything else.   
  
Another jolt. Jimmy was hanging onto the handhold of the   
door. "They rammed us! They're trying to push us over the   
edge!"   
  
Lois didn't answer. She hung onto the wheel as the car   
lurched leftwards and managed to avoid going over, even   
though her left rear wheel hung over space for a split   
instant. She bore to the right. A glance in her rear-view   
mirror showed her the Ford plunging toward her again.  
  
At the last instant before impact, she swung hard right.   
The Ford connected with her left taillight and spun the   
Toyota around. Amid the whirling confusion, she had a   
glimpse of the Ford as it rocketed over the brink, then the   
rear fender of the little car slammed into the side of the   
mountain. The lights went out.  
  
**********  
  
Clark headed directly west toward the clinic. It wasn't   
quite one-thirty, but too much time had passed. Lois and   
Jimmy should have been back by now. Silently, he berated   
himself for not checking on his partner sooner. Lois   
didn't like it when he played mother hen, but surely he   
could have made a cautious check on her whereabouts without   
letting on what he was doing.  
  
When they got married, he was going to have to be even more   
careful, he thought. Lois was simply the kind of person   
who took chances. She had done it before he came to   
Metropolis (and why she was still alive was a mystery he   
hadn't yet solved) and she wasn't about to change. If he   
wanted her in his life, he was going to have to accept it.  
  
Even the thought of not having her in his life sent cold   
chills down his back. He was over the beginning of the   
foothills now, almost to the clinic, and motion below him   
caught his eye. Two cars, a Ford and a Toyota, bare feet   
apart, were racing toward him at a high rate of speed. As   
he watched, the Ford rammed the Toyota, nearly sending it   
over the edge. He gulped. He couldn't let that go on or   
somebody was going to get killed.   
  
He arrowed toward the speeding cars. As he did so, the   
Ford rammed the Toyota again and the little car turned   
sharply, spinning around to collide with the stone wall   
that rose sharply on its right. The Ford plunged over the   
edge and rolled.  
  
He dived after it, seeing flames spurt from under the hood,   
seized the car and righted it. A blast of frigid breath   
put out the fire.  
  
The three men inside seemed to be unconscious, but they   
were all breathing and their heartbeats were steady. When   
they came to, they had some things to answer for. He set   
the car firmly on a spur that protruded from the cliff   
side. It would be safe here until he got back to it. This   
car had been trying to run the other off the road. He   
could hear the heartbeats of the occupants of the Toyota as   
he flashed up the side of the cliff and one of them--  
  
The little Toyota had been spun about by the tail end   
collision with the Ford and slammed into the rock of the   
cliff side. He already knew before he arrived who the   
occupants had to be.  
  
Lois and Jimmy.  
  
He landed by the car, appalled at the sight of the crumpled   
metal, but on a second glance, he saw that the damage had   
been mostly confined to the rear of the car. That had been   
thanks to Lois's superior driving skills, he thought. She   
had saved her life and Jimmy's although she hadn't been   
able to prevent the crash entirely. He checked quickly.   
There was no indication of leaking fuel, and the two had   
been fastened in with their safety belts. As he pulled the   
driver's door from its frame, Lois opened her eyes.   
  
"Superman?" She started to lift her head.  
  
"Don't move, Lois. Let me check for any injuries." He   
swept his x-ray vision over her. "One cracked rib---  
assorted bumps and bruises. I don't see any serious   
damage." Quickly, he turned to Jimmy and repeated the   
procedure. "About the same." He closed his eyes for an   
instant in relief and tried to regain his composure. "What   
happened?"  
  
Jimmy opened his eyes, blinking, and raised his hand to rub   
his face. Lois sat up in the seat, wincing slightly.   
"Superman, you have to get to the New Beginnings Clinic.   
Diana is there and she might try to get away--"  
  
"Lois, I need to get you to a doctor!"  
  
"You said we're not seriously hurt!" She glared at him.   
"Hurry! All you have to do is keep them from getting away   
until the cops get there!"  
  
He hesitated another long moment. "All right," he said,   
finally, " but you have to promise not to move. I'll be   
right back."  
  
"I promise--now go!"  
  
"Lois, are you sure--"  
  
"Go!"  
  
Still rebellious, but obedient, he took off in a rush of   
air. At his normal cruising speed, the elite little   
hospital was only seconds away. As he approached, he could   
see unusual activity in the parking lot. Several men in   
white uniforms were swarming over the lot, piling into cars   
and he saw a large, black limousine peel away from the gate   
with unusual speed for a car of that type. He scanned it   
automatically. Well, well--Lois had been right, as usual.   
He swooped down and landed in the road directly in the path   
of the car.  
  
The driver slammed on the brakes and swerved. Superman   
seized the car, swung it into the air and returned to the   
hospital's parking lot exit, where he pushed the metal   
gates together one-handed and jammed the car up against   
them.  
  
No one could say he hadn't learned how dangerous the   
Intergang assassin was, he thought, wryly. Even he could   
figure it out, given enough time and sad experience. He   
used his heat vision to flatten the limo's tires and weld   
the doors shut. That should keep them out of trouble for   
the present and foil the mass escape of their underlings at   
the same time. He didn't see any sign of Kryptonite, but   
he'd discovered that it wasn't a good idea to assume   
anything where Diana Stride was concerned. She and Neville   
Elliott could sit in their car at a safe distance from him   
until the police arrived and he could get back to Lois and   
Jimmy.  
  
**********  
  
"Superman didn't need to wait very long," Clark said.   
"Henderson apparently called the nearest Sheriff's station   
and they arrived about ten minutes after he did, so Diana's   
back in custody and Dr. Elliott is in the cell right next   
to hers. Lois and Jimmy's statements were enough to bring   
the DA's Intergang task force into it. Intergang's bosses   
are not going to be happy."  
  
It was late morning of the next day. Lois and Clark had   
arrived at the Planet later than usual this morning, as had   
Jimmy, since the two accident victims had spent the night   
under observation at Metropolis General Hospital--in Lois's   
case, under vociferous protest. Clark had been busy   
following up on the front page article that had appeared in   
the morning edition of the Planet under the Lane and Kent   
byline.  
  
"And we've got the jump on all the papers with Lois's story   
and your exclusive interview with Superman, to boot," Perry   
said, looking extremely pleased. "It's hard to believe   
they were running something like that right under the noses   
of every law enforcement agency in the state--new faces and   
identities for wanted criminals. It's a good thing you   
went to find Lois when you did, Clark. Between you and   
Superman, it landed you right into the middle of a breaking   
story. Of course, there's plenty of room for follow-ups   
and further investigation. I'm putting the two of you onto   
it as soon as Lois is back up to par. If you need Jimmy   
here to help you, just say so."  
  
"We might, I think," Lois said. She smiled at the Planet's   
junior photographer. "I'd never have gotten us out if not   
for him."  
  
Jimmy grinned cautiously. His right eye was swollen shut   
and the side of his face was black and blue where he'd hit   
it on the door of the car but, like Lois, he had emerged   
from the accident with only minor injuries. "I'm awfully   
glad you finally got my message, CK."  
  
"So am I," Clark said. "Thanks for helping Lois out when I   
couldn't, Jim. We both owe you a lot."  
  
"No sweat, CK. Besides, I figured that by helping Lois, I   
was helping myself. Still, I never figured I'd be mugging   
an Intergang thug. It's not something I want to do again."  
  
"I don't blame you," Clark said. "I'm not even clear on   
how you knew he *was* Intergang."  
  
"I recognized him," Lois said. "You remember Martin Snell,   
don't you?"  
  
"The Intergang lawyer who was threatening us so he could   
keep Superman out of the South Side?" Perry asked. "Isn't   
he dead?"  
  
"He's dead," Lois said. "But they brought in a bunch of   
flunkies when Superman figured out how they were targeting   
us. That guy was one of them. I tried to interview some   
of them, including him, but no one would answer any   
questions. He should still have been sitting in jail,   
except that Intergang lawyers got the whole batch out after   
Snell's death."  
  
"Intergang takes care of its employees," Clark said. "Even   
low level ones. That probably explains their loyalty to   
the organization."  
  
"Yeah," Perry said. "It's a hard nut to crack, that's for   
sure. It's got to have *some* weaknesses, though. I'm   
relying on you two to find them."  
  
"We'll do our best," Clark said.   
  
Lois shifted uncomfortably, favoring her hurt rib. "And   
Claude?"  
  
"They found him," Clark said. He couldn't help grinning   
slightly, although it wasn't really funny to see a man that   
humiliated. Or, it shouldn't be. "He had no idea where he   
was. All he knew was that he'd gone to meet a source who   
might be able to direct him to 'guys who knew guys' and the   
next thing he knew, he woke up in the dark."  
  
"He tried to file a story after the police let him go,"   
Perry said. "I had to tell him you'd beat him to the   
punch. We did put in a bit about what happened to him,   
though."   
  
"I'm sure he appreciated that a lot," Lois said.  
  
"Well, Lois and CK *did* figure it out before he did,"   
Jimmy pointed out.   
  
"By the way, a spokesman for the Kerth Committee called   
yesterday evening while you were still at Metro General,"   
Perry said, rising from his seat on Lois's desk. "He said   
he'd be calling back this afternoon to talk to you, Lois.   
I said you'd be here."  
  
Jimmy looked admiringly at Lois but didn't say anything   
until their editor had returned to his office. Then he   
spoke up.  
  
"Are you up for *another* Kerth?"  
  
"Maybe," Lois said, noncommittally.  
  
Jimmy shook his head. "Man, I don't think there's another   
reporter in the world who's been nominated as many times as   
you have--not even CK. I hope someday I'll be half as good   
as you are."  
  
"Thanks, Jimmy," Lois said.  
  
After their young companion had gone to start his morning   
tasks, Clark took Perry's place on the corner of Lois's   
desk. "Rib still hurting?" he asked.  
  
"Some," she admitted. "I don't want to take any more   
painkiller than I have to, though. I had enough of it when   
I broke my ankle."  
  
"Lois, I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner," he said,   
quietly. "If I had, I might have been able to prevent the   
accident."  
  
"Clark, it's not your fault you didn't get Jimmy's message   
earlier. You were doing some pretty important things of   
your own," she pointed out. "And, of course, you caught   
Nunk breaking into your apartment. Henderson told me this   
morning that they were going to have to release him,   
though. They got the guy who's been burglarizing people's   
homes in your neighborhood. Anyway, I think it's time we   
'proved' to everyone's satisfaction that Nunk's barking up   
the wrong tree." She reached out to take the hand he had   
rested on his knee. "I want to get all these details out   
of the way--before we start planning our wedding."  
  
Clark had thought he'd faced every shock of the last two   
days with reasonable equanimity but this one took him like   
a clip in the stomach. He stared at her with his mouth   
half-open. "You mean, you--"  
  
"I mean I'm saying yes." She patted his cheek lightly.   
"Now, let's take care of Nunk so we can pay attention to   
the important things in life."  
  
Suddenly he was grinning so widely he thought his face   
would split in half. "Yes, ma'am!"  
  
**********  
  
"We've reviewed your claim, Ms. Lane, and the evidence   
presented by your editor and your representative." David   
Schubert, the Kerth Committee spokesman, had a deep voice   
that made her want to clear her throat, just listening to   
him. "Mr. Chabert challenged the claim, of course."  
  
"Of course," Lois said.  
  
"The full committee will be meeting tomorrow afternoon to   
make a final judgement on the matter. Will you be   
available to testify?"  
  
"I'll make time," Lois said. "When and where?"  
  
"The meeting will be in the business offices of the Daily   
Planet at one. Mr. Chabert will also be there."  
  
"I understand," Lois said. "Thank you."  
  
"Very good. Until then, Ms. Lane."  
  
Lois hung up and looked over at Clark, who was tidying up   
his desk in preparation for leaving. "Tomorrow at one, I   
have to talk to the Kerth Committee."  
  
"Remember what kind of person you're up against," Clark   
said. "You'll do fine."  
  
"I hope so." She glanced at the clock. "I'm ready to go   
home. Just let me shut things down here and we can go."  
  
Perry looked up from his computer screen when Clark stuck   
his head in the door.   
  
"'Night, Chief."  
  
"'Night, Clark. I don't suppose I could talk you and Lois   
into staying for the poker game, tonight?"  
  
Clark grinned. "Not tonight, sir. I've got dinner plans   
for a very special date."  
  
"Oh?" His boss raised an eyebrow. "I guess she'd have to   
be. Have a good time."  
  
"We will. I'll let you know about that other thing."  
  
"You do that. I'm ready to string Nunk up by his thumbs   
after the trouble he's given the Planet."  
  
"Well, I don't think we need to go that far, but I think it   
should be awhile before he targets us again."  
  
Perry grunted. "I'd rather string him up, but I guess we   
better do it your way. Jimmy called about half an hour   
ago. He got the job, and starts tonight, so we're all set   
whenever you say go."  
  
"Just as soon as the right opportunity presents itself,"   
Clark said. "Good night, sir."  
  
He joined Lois by the elevator just as the bell rang and   
held the doors while she moved slowly inside. "Doing all   
right?"  
  
"Yeah." She grasped the safety rail as the car started   
downward. "Thanks for getting my Jeep back, by the way. I   
wouldn't want to walk home today."  
  
"No problem." Clark slipped an arm around her waist. "Is   
this okay? I'm not hurting your rib, am I?"  
  
"No. It actually feels better when you do that," she said.   
  
"Good." He fell silent, enjoying the feeling of closeness   
to her. She leaned against him without saying anything as   
the elevator descended toward the basement lot. As they   
passed the first floor, Clark lowered his glasses, glancing   
at the area in front of the Planet. "Nunk's van is parked   
out on the street," he reported. "I don't see him   
anywhere, though."  
  
"He's probably staked out the Jeep," Lois said.   
  
"Probably," Clark said. "At least Louise isn't reporting   
to him, anymore."  
  
"At least," Lois said. "I had a few things to say to her,   
myself, after Perry got through with her."  
  
"That's probably why she ran when I said good morning,"   
Clark said, thoughtfully.  
  
"Could be. I don't think she'll make the same mistake   
again."  
  
"Well, that's something, anyway." Clark wouldn't have   
wanted to be in Louise's shoes for anything when Lois found   
out about her treachery, but he felt it wise to drop the   
subject. "Do you feel like putting up with my cooking   
tonight? I'm going to need to stay in practice.   
Somebody's got to be the family cook when we get married."  
  
"Well--I guess we could order a lot of takeout," she said.  
  
"Hey, my mom taught me to cook better than that," he   
protested. "Or don't you trust me?"  
  
"Well--I don't know. I've tasted your mom's cooking, but   
not yours."  
  
"In that case, I'll have to prove myself," he said. "Are   
you up to the challenge?"  
  
"All right, you're on," she said, "but this better be   
good."   
  
"Done." He grinned down at her as the elevator slid to a   
halt. "All we have to do is run the Nunk gauntlet."  
  
She made a face. "I'm not very fast today."  
  
"Don't worry," Clark said. "I'm not feeling very   
charitable with him, right now." The doors slid open as he   
spoke. "Yep, there he is--next to the red van." He took   
out his cellular phone and punched in six of the seven   
numbers that dialed the Planet's security office. "This   
might be our chance. Walk straight to the Jeep and get in.   
I'll handle him."  
  
Nunk had another photographer with him, today, a skinny,   
young man with a prominent Adam's apple. He made an   
attempt to step in front of Lois as she headed for her car   
and Clark barred his path with one arm. "What are you   
doing in here, Nunk? You were told to stay away from the   
Planet."  
  
"What are you going to do? Arrest me?" Nunk inquired with   
a sneer.  
  
Clark grinned. "You mean you didn't like spending the   
night in jail? That's too bad." He punched the final   
number. Someone picked it up on the second ring.  
  
"Security."  
  
"This is Clark Kent," he said. "I'm in the basement   
parking lot. Mr. Nunk and his photographer are here,   
trespassing again and harassing Ms. Lane and me. Could you   
send someone to pick them up, please?"  
  
"Right away, Mr. Kent."  
  
"Never mind!" Nunk snarled. He turned toward the exit.   
"You're going to regret this, Kent!"  
  
Clark smiled slightly. "Not as much as you are, Mr. Nunk,"   
he murmured, under his breath. He waited, watching the two   
as they headed for the exit, smiling even more widely when   
two Security men appeared before they were halfway there.   
A moment later, driving past them at the wheel of the   
Cherokee, he waved cheerfully to them. With luck, it would   
make the man mad enough to execute his second scheme.   
Then, Jimmy could do his job. After that, it would just be   
a matter of proving to the world that Clark Kent and   
Superman were two different people. That might not be   
exactly a piece of cake, but by the time they were done,   
not even the most gullible person on Earth would ever take   
Leo Nunk seriously again.   
  
If he hadn't known it already, he'd have said Lois was a   
genius. This was going to be fun.  
  
**********  
  
"Have a seat, Ms. Lane." The chairman of the Kerth   
Committee was a tall, grey-haired man whom she had met a   
number of times before: three times while receiving Kerths   
of her own and several times at the award ceremonies for   
other journalists, including Clark. She took her place   
next to her lawyer, Bill Ross, who nodded reassuringly. A   
moment later the door opened again and Claude entered the   
room. He cast a frosty glance at Lois, who stared directly   
back at him, and took a seat next to a thin, predatory-  
looking woman with a hawk's beak of a nose. Probably his   
lawyer, Lois surmised. The four other members of the   
Committee were seated, two on either side of the chairman,   
but if they noted the byplay, none of them chose to   
comment.  
  
The chairman folded his hands. "Since it seems everyone is   
here, let's begin..."  
  
Bill Ross raised a hand. "Excuse me, Mr. Chairman, but   
we're expecting one more person."  
  
The other lawyer spoke up. "Unless this person has a   
bearing on this situation, I'm going to object."  
  
Ross smiled. "I assure you, Ms. Bentley, he does have a   
bearing."  
  
There was a knock on the door and it swung open. Harry   
Williams entered the room. Bill Ross continued smoothly.   
"Here he is now. I guess we can proceed."  
  
The chairman cleared his throat. "Ahem, yes. The   
committee has reviewed all the evidence and taken testimony   
from Perry White on this subject. The articles by Ms. Lane   
submitted as samples are quite similar in writing style to   
that used in the article in question and would be otherwise   
convincing. However, Mr. Chabert has made the allegation   
that Ms. Lane's claim is motivated by revenge. Ms. Lane,   
do you have anything to say to refute Mr. Chabert's claim?"  
  
Bill Ross glanced at Lois and nodded. "Yes, Mr. Chairman.   
My client has a witness to a disturbing incident that took   
place three evenings ago between Mr. Chabert and Ms. Lane,   
regarding this situation."  
  
Lois glanced furtively at Claude. The smug expression he   
had worn while the chairman had been speaking had   
disappeared and a slight frown had replaced it.  
  
Claude's lawyer jumped to her feet. "I object to this!   
This can't possibly be relevant to an incident that took   
place five years ago!"  
  
The chairman looked at her over the tops of his glasses.   
"Ms. Bentley, this is not a court of law. The Committee   
will hear the witness and then decide if the information is   
relevant." He turned back to Bill Ross. "Proceed, Mr.   
Ross."  
  
Ross nodded to Harry. "This is Horace Williams, a long-  
time employee of the Daily Planet. Harry--"  
  
Harry nodded. "I'm on the night shift," he explained. "I   
knew Mr. Chabert slightly when he worked at the Planet, and   
I'm casually acquainted with Ms. Lane. Three nights ago, I   
came to work and Ms. Lane was still there, working late."  
  
"Did you speak to her?" Ms. Bentley demanded.  
  
"Ms. Bentley, the committee will ask the questions," the   
chairman said, mildly. "Did you speak to Ms. Lane, Mr.   
Williams?"   
  
"We said hello and I asked if she was working late," Harry   
said. "Then I went to my desk. A few minutes later Mr.   
Chabert came in and went right up to her."  
  
"I object!" Ms. Bentley exclaimed. "Mr. Williams is   
obviously hard of hearing! How could he overhear--"  
  
"Ms. Bentley," the chairman said. He was looking slightly   
irritated. "You and Mr. Ross are here by special   
permission only. If you continue to interrupt, I'll have   
to expel you from the proceedings. Go on, Mr. Williams."  
  
"Thank you." Harry nodded at the chairman. "I didn't like   
the expression on Mr. Chabert's face, and Ms. Lane was   
looking a little scared, so I turned up my hearing aid so I   
could hear what was going on."  
  
Ms. Bentley opened her mouth again, but the chairman cast   
her a warning glance and she subsided. "Go on," he said.  
  
"Well," Harry said, "Mr. Chabert told Ms. Lane that he'd   
heard she was challenging his Kerth award and that she'd   
better drop it or he'd ruin her reputation. He said he had   
a good imagination. Ms. Lane looked kind of mad. She said   
she'd written the article, and he said, yes, but nobody   
else knew. That was pretty much it."  
  
Ms. Bentley was on her feet. "This is hearsay! Mr.   
Chairman, I object!"  
  
"That was what they said!" Harry was on his feet, too.   
"Chabert threatened Ms. Lane if she didn't back off. I   
don't exactly know what it was all about, but I was there   
and that's what I saw and heard!"  
  
"Sit down, please." The chairman was frowning. "Ms.   
Bentley, I repeat, this is *not* a court of law. Mr.   
Williams, would you be willing to take a legal oath on what   
you observed?"  
  
"You bet I would!"  
  
There was silence in the room. Finally, the chairman   
nodded. "Thank you, everyone. The committee needs to talk   
this over in private. Thank you all for coming. We'll let   
you know when we reach a decision."   
  
**********   
  
Lois stepped out the door of the offices and found Clark   
waiting for her. "Were you here the whole time?"  
  
He nodded, coming forward to take her hands. "How did it   
go?"  
  
The door opened again to disgorge Claude and Harry. The   
French reporter gave the older man a venomous look, which   
Harry ignored. He smiled at Lois and Clark.  
  
"Good luck, Ms. Lane."  
  
Lois managed a shaky smile in return. "Thanks, Harry."  
  
"No problem." He glanced at Claude's seething expression   
and grinned slightly. "You should be more careful who you   
threaten, and where, buddy. You never know who might be   
listening."  
  
Claude spat a phrase in French that made Clark raise his   
eyebrows but Harry ignored it. He turned and made his way   
down the hall toward the row of elevators.  
  
Claude turned his glare on Lois. "I didn't think you'd   
have the nerve, you--"  
  
Lois looked him straight in the eyes. "I never let bullies   
and thieves intimidate me, Claude. Ask any of the people   
I've put in jail since you went back to Paris."  
  
Claude took a half step forward and then seemed to think   
better of it when Clark cleared his throat. Lois turned   
back to her partner.   
  
"Come on, Clark, let's get back to work. The Committee   
will let us know when they've made their decision."  
  
They started toward the elevators. Clark put an arm   
carefully around her. "Perry told me to take you to lunch.   
How do you feel about Jose's?"  
  
"That sounds good," Lois said. "For some reason, I feel   
like having an enchilada combo."  
  
"Whatever you like. My treat." They had missed the car   
that had arrived for Harry a moment ago. Clark rang for   
another one without releasing her. A glance backward   
showed her Claude glaring after them, but the man didn't   
try to follow.  
  
********  
  
"Hmm--no sign of Nunk," Clark said as they left the Daily   
Planet. "I wonder if they kept him in jail all night."  
  
"I doubt it," Lois said. "Still, bailing him out might be   
getting a little expensive for the Whisper."  
  
"Think how many lawsuits they must have to deal with and   
how many so-called reporters they must have to bail out of   
the pokey on a regular basis," Clark pointed out "It's   
just the cost of the Whisper doing business."  
  
Lois snorted. "Some business!"  
  
He chuckled. "There will always be those who appeal to the   
worst in people, Lois."  
  
"Oh, I know. I just wish we didn't have to swat so many   
bloodsuckers all the time."  
  
"If you want my opinion, you did a pretty good job of   
swatting one, today. You know, it wouldn't surprise me,   
after this thing about your Kerth is settled, if a few   
claims from other people come out. You don't think your   
story was the only one he ever stole, do you?"  
  
"I didn't really do anything, Clark. Harry Williams and   
Perry did the most."  
  
"You didn't back down when Claude threatened you. That   
took a lot of courage."  
  
"Like I said to Claude, I don't back down to bullies."  
  
"I know and that's what impresses me. In fact, *you*   
impress me. You have from the day I met you."  
  
She was about to answer when they passed a newspaper stand.   
A colorful picture caught her eye and she stopped to stare.   
"Clark, look!"  
  
It was the National Whisper. On the front page, the   
headline blared: "ALIEN SEX TRIANGLE!" The picture that   
had caught her attention was of far better quality than the   
Whisper usually produced and it showed Leo Nunk cuddled in   
bed between two classic aliens straight out of a UFO-  
phile's dream. Lois dropped money in the required   
receptacle and snatched up a copy. The outrageous article   
she had produced for Jimmy's use the day before met her   
gaze. That part had been satisfying. She had let her   
imagination run wild and produced a story as unlikely as   
any she had ever seen in one of the tabloids, written with   
a serious and straightforward tone that gave it the ring of   
truth. Her eyes returned to the photo again. Jimmy had   
done a marvelous job. She began to laugh, and if the   
laughter held a slightly hysterical note, she didn't think   
anyone could blame her.  
  
Clark was reading over her shoulder. She heard him snort   
and looked around. He was trying not to break out laughing   
and it was the first time she had ever seen Superman's face   
literally scarlet as he tried to suppress his mirth. The   
expression on her face must have been too much, for he gave   
up the battle suddenly. Passersby were staring at them,   
Lois knew, but she literally didn't care. This was one   
copy of the Whisper that she intended to preserve for the   
rest of her life.  
  
**********  
  
Jimmy was in the office when they returned from lunch and   
several copies of the National Whisper had found their way   
into the newsroom. Clark could hear muted laughter from   
employees perusing Lois and Jimmy's masterpiece. The   
junior photographer and newsroom computer expert sauntered   
casually up to them as they reached their desks.   
  
"Hi there. I see you have a copy of the Whisper."  
  
"Jimmy, this is great," Clark said.   
  
"Thanks, CK," Jimmy said.  
  
"I guess Nunk decided to go with his Superman scandal, last   
night?" Clark asked.  
  
"Yeah." Jimmy grinned. "Whatever you did yesterday, he   
was pretty ticked off when his boss bailed him out again,   
last night. They handed us a pic that had been doctored up   
to look like you and Lois and Superman were all in bed   
together, CK. Their editor approved it and everything. Of   
course, they didn't realize I'd already rigged the computer   
program that handles the front page layout to wipe their   
stuff and substitute ours once it was sent down for mass   
printing. I just hope they don't ever manage to track down   
the new night computer tech they hired yesterday. I'd hate   
to have Nunk on my case."  
  
"He never saw you, did he?" Lois asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Good. Just make sure he doesn't get a look at you again   
until that bruise goes away. I think you should be pretty   
safe," Clark said. "Superman said to tell you thanks, by   
the way. He liked your work."  
  
Perry opened the door of his office. "Hey, what is this?--  
Happy hour at Buckingham Palace? You people can admire   
that rag on your own time." He waved an arm at Lois and   
Clark. "In my office, you two."  
  
"Talk to you later, Jim," Clark said, quickly. "Duty   
calls."   
  
Lois gave him a nervous look and he squeezed her hand.   
Perry waited while they made their way to his office,   
gestured them past him and shut the door. "The Kerth   
spokesman called," he said.  
  
"And?" Clark couldn't read the expression on his face.   
Perry regarded Lois for a long moment, and Clark felt his   
heart sinking. They had decided in Claude's favor, after   
all.  
  
Perry's face broke into a broad grin. "Congratulations,   
Lois. The Kerth Committee unanimously revoked Claude's   
Kerth. You are now the proud winner of four Kerth Awards   
for investigative journalism."  
  
Lois gasped. Perry's grin widened. "Claude left right   
after the verdict," he added. "He's on his way back to   
Paris as we speak."  
  
Clark felt himself grinning in triumph. "You did it!"  
  
Lois nodded, seemingly unable to speak. "Oh, Clark!" she   
squeaked, finally. "I can't believe it!"  
  
Perry reached out to hug her. "Congratulations, honey.   
I'm proud of you."  
  
"Everybody will be proud of her, when we tell them," Clark   
said. "I sure am."  
  
Perry released her. "That's what I wanted to talk to you   
two about," he said. "I think we can use this to kill two   
birds with one stone."  
  
"What do you mean?" Lois asked.  
  
"The Annual Metropolitan Journalist's Ball is coming up   
next week," Perry said. "I think we should arrange a   
little ceremony to be held at the event. I'm going to have   
you present Lois with her Kerth in front of every news   
organization in the city, Clark. And, if Superman could   
find time in his schedule to show up and congratulate her   
during the presentation..."  
  
Lois's eyes brightened. "Clark, it's perfect!"  
  
Clark nodded. "Chief, you're a genius."  
  
**********   
  
The Metropolitan Journalists' Ball was an annual social   
event in Metropolis. It always drew a crowd that included   
most of the employees from every newspaper in the state,   
from the editors down to the most lowly of copy boys. Lois   
glanced at her reflection in the full-length mirror that   
decorated the entranceway hall and debated--again--if the   
slim, black dress and the simple string of pearls were the   
best choice she could have made for the event.  
  
She had graduated from the athletic cast to an elastic   
ankle support the day before and this evening was wearing a   
pair of dressy, flat black shoes. As a result, she felt   
shorter than ever beside her partner, who towered over her,   
looking handsome (as usual) in a tux. Of course, Clark   
looked handsome in anything, including a pair of ragged   
jeans and a worn T-shirt, as she had noticed this weekend   
while he helped his dad with chores around the Kansas farm.  
  
Clark looked down at her and smiled. "I'm going to be the   
envy of every guy in the room."   
  
"Well, I'm going to be the envy of every woman," she said.   
The ring on her finger still felt unfamiliar but she   
regarded it with a little tingle of excitement as the   
diamond caught the light from the chandelier overhead and   
split it into tiny rainbow lights. "You're all mine."  
  
"I always was," he said. "You just didn't know it."  
  
"Well, I know it now. I only wish I could dance with you   
tonight and I can't--not with this foot."  
  
Clark smiled. "We'll dance later, when we get back to your   
place. My kind of dancing doesn't put any strain on the   
feet."  
  
She giggled. "It's a good thing I know what you're talking   
about," she said. "Otherwise I might take that the wrong   
way."  
  
"Lois!"  
  
"Well, it's true!" She was in a giddy mood tonight. The   
Kerth Committee chairman had explained to her the day of   
the critical decision, that the committee had personally   
been convinced by the evidence Perry White had presented to   
them that she had written the award-winning story, but   
that, to be absolutely fair, they had been forced to take   
Claude Chabert's accusation into account. This afternoon,   
Perry had told her that Claude was already immersed in two   
legal battles in Paris, one involving a colleague accusing   
him of theft of his material and another concerning some   
other, unspecified charge. How Perry had found that out he   
wouldn't say, but just the knowledge was invigorating. It   
seemed that they had done the journalistic world a favor   
when she and Perry had brought Claude's perfidy to light.  
  
In spite of that, though, a little bit of uneasiness   
nibbled at her nerves. She wouldn't be completely   
comfortable until the last part of their plan was finished.   
Diana Stride's accusation that Clark Kent was Superman had   
to be refuted beyond the shadow of a doubt. The other   
tabloids were still running the occasional article claiming   
to have seen Clark Kent doing amazing feats, and though she   
doubted anyone took them seriously, it was still necessary   
to prove to the world that the Intergang assassin had been   
lying. Somewhere in this building, with line-of-sight   
access to the ballroom, Martha and Jonathan Kent were   
concealed, awaiting their cue. Martha Kent's "project" was   
all set up--the holographic projector that she had been   
playing with for her art project two weekends ago when Lois   
had visited their farm was ready to go. After this evening   
Diana Stride would be completely discredited, assuming   
nothing went wrong.   
  
The ballroom was brilliantly lighted by gleaming, crystal   
chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and beneath them, the   
guests were moving about, chatting with people they hadn't   
seen for a year and generally enjoying themselves. Music   
played softly in the background and more than one pair of   
appreciative eyes followed the two of them as Clark   
escorted her proudly to the table set up for the Daily   
Planet and pulled out a chair for her.  
  
Perry and Alice were already there, as were most of the   
members of the newsroom. Ralph, she noted, as she sat   
down, had already had one or two drinks too many. His face   
was flushed, and in his hand, he held a half-full glass of   
beer. The man looked her over and wolf-whistled softly   
between his teeth. Lois saw Clark stiffen slightly. She   
put a hand on his arm.  
  
"Hey there, Kent," Ralph greeted them. "I thought you were   
gonna be late."  
  
"Why would we be late?" Lois asked, taking her seat by   
Alice. Clark sat down beside her.  
  
"Didn't Kent have to return a video, or somethin'?" Ralph   
snickered at his undoubtedly lame joke.  
  
Clark rolled his eyes but didn't answer.  
  
Alice White turned to Lois, ignoring Ralph as if he didn't   
exist. "Is that an engagement ring, Lois?"  
  
Lois nodded. "Clark asked me to marry him. I said yes."  
  
"That's wonderful!" She turned to Clark.   
"Congratulations, Clark!"  
  
Clark smiled, looking very slightly smug. "Thank you," he   
said.  
  
"I'd say it's about time," Perry said. "There's been an   
office pool runnin' for months over how long it was going   
to take."  
  
"Perry!" his wife chided. "That's terrible!"  
  
"Oh, I wasn't in it," their boss assured them with a broad   
grin. "I wasn't even supposed to know about it."   
  
"I guess we were the only ones who didn't know," Clark   
said, mildly. "I don't mind. I'm the big winner, after   
all." He smiled at Lois and she felt herself blushing.  
  
Perry glanced at his watch. "It's about time to start.   
Looks like mostly everyone is here."  
  
There was a rustle on the podium and someone tapped the   
microphone. "Can everybody hear me? Okay then, let's get   
this show on the road. We'll be serving dinner in a few   
minutes, and we have a wonderful program for everyone   
tonight. Our first speaker will be--"  
  
Lois listened with half her attention as the program rolled   
forward. Waiters were circulating around with appetizers   
and Ralph ordered another drink. She wondered how many   
more of those he could manage before somebody had to escort   
him out of the room. Glancing around, she tried to spot   
where Perry had arranged for Martha and Jonathan Kent to   
hide, and couldn't. That was good. If she couldn't find   
them, knowing they were here somewhere, then it was highly   
unlikely that anyone else would.   
  
"And now," the announcer was saying, "we have one   
unexpected event added to our program. We all heard last   
week about the Kerth Award decision, I'm sure. Tonight,   
that award is going to be presented to its rightful   
recipient by her partner. So, without further ado, would   
Mr. Clark Kent come forward to handle this important   
presentation?"  
  
This was it. Clark squeezed her hand and got to his feet.   
He strode to the elevated platform at the front of the room   
and mounted to the podium with his usual casual grace.   
Lois couldn't help admiring the way he looked so completely   
at ease, even in front of several hundred people. The   
master of ceremonies shook his hand and stood aside. Clark   
took his place.  
  
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of the press," he   
began. "As we all know, one of the most prestigious awards   
a journalist can win for investigative journalism is the   
Kerth. Five years ago, a rookie journalist wrote a story   
worthy of that award but another reporter stole her story   
and claimed it as his own. As proof of the quality of the   
work, it won a Kerth for him that he didn't merit. The   
rookie journalist believed that no one would take her word   
over that of a seasoned reporter if she told the truth, so   
she said nothing. Five years later, that rookie is, in my   
own completely unbiased opinion, one of the best   
investigative journalists in Metropolis."  
  
The mild joke brought a general chuckle and a scattering of   
applause. Clark waited until it died down before he   
continued.  
  
"Tonight, although it was long delayed, she is finally   
receiving the recognition that her story should have given   
her five years ago. Lois, would you come up here, please?   
We have something here that belongs to you."   
  
Lois got to her feet and walked slowly toward the podium,   
careful not to strain her slowly healing ankle. The last   
thing she needed to do was slip and twist it again in front   
of most of the journalistic community in the city.   
Somewhere, someone started to applaud, and the applause   
grew until it seemed to fill the room. Surprised, she   
realized that everyone in the place was standing, and the   
other journalists, even the ones who had been her biggest   
rivals over the past five years, were grinning widely.  
  
She mounted the stairs, and the master of ceremonies   
reached out a hand to help her. Clark met her eyes as she   
crossed the platform toward him, looking as if he might   
burst with pride.  
  
When she came to a stop beside him, he held up the award.   
"I believe this is yours, Ms. Lane. Congratulations."  
  
Lois took it, surprised to realize that her vision was   
blurring with tears. "Thank you," she managed.   
  
Clark leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "You   
deserve it."  
  
From above, a gust of wind brushed her face and a very   
familiar voice said, "May I add my congratulations as   
well?"  
  
She looked up to see the figure of Superman descending   
slowly toward the platform. He paused, hovering only   
inches above the surface and his eyes seemed to be focussed   
on her face. She knew it was only a hologram, but if she   
hadn't known, she wouldn't have been able to see any   
difference.  
  
"When I came to Metropolis," Superman said, "the first   
person I spoke to was Lois Lane. I couldn't have chosen a   
better person to tell the world who I was and why I was   
here. Since then, as well as the dedicated journalist who   
told my story to the people of this city, she's come to be   
a valued friend as well. Metropolis is fortunate to have   
you, Lois."  
  
While he was speaking, she had managed to regain some of   
her equilibrium. Her voice was commendably steady as she   
replied, "Thank you, Superman."  
  
He smiled at her. "I can only stay a minute. I'm needed   
elsewhere, but I wanted to extend my congratulations to you   
on your award. You deserve it." The familiar whooshing   
sound filled the room and Superman was gone.  
  
Clark stepped forward again. "Well, how can I do better   
than that? Although, I'm sure the local tabloids will have   
some ingenious explanation for how I managed to be in two   
places at once..."  
  
There was a general laugh. Clark continued, "Would you   
care to say a few words, Lois?"  
  
Lois leaned forward. "Only that I'd like to thank my   
editor, Perry White. If not for him, I wouldn't be where I   
am today--and I wouldn't have this, either." She held up   
the award. "Like a true investigative journalist, he   
figured out the truth about what happened and helped me to   
prove it. Thank you, Perry."  
  
Amid the applause, she turned and started for the stairs.   
Clark said, "And that concludes our award ceremony, ladies   
and gentlemen. You may now return to your dinner."  
  
Scattered chuckles followed them as Clark joined her and   
helped her down the steps.  
  
At the table, Perry leaned toward her. "That went well."  
  
Lois nodded. "I meant what I said, too, Perry. Thank   
you."  
  
"Aw, honey, it was the least I could do."  
  
Ralph put an end to the conversation by dropping his beer   
and sliding slowly off his chair onto the floor. Lois   
stared at him for a shocked instant and bit her lip to   
smother a laugh. Perry raised an eyebrow. "Clark, why   
don't you and Jimmy help him into the lobby?" he said, in a   
matter-of-fact way. "There's a bench there where he can   
sleep it off."  
  
**********  
  
Epilogue  
  
Martha and Jonathan were waiting for them at Lois's   
apartment when they returned, two hours later.   
  
"How did it go?" Jonathan asked, before they had even   
closed the door. "Was everybody convinced?"  
  
"It went fine," Clark said. "I don't think anyone will   
have any doubts after this. Nunk has been trying to gin   
something else up ever since last week, you know, but no   
one is taking him seriously anymore--although last week's   
issue of the Whisper was one of the biggest sellers they've   
had in a couple of years. Between Jimmy's picture and   
Lois's article, I heard they had to go for an extra   
printing. Rumor said Nunk objected, but his editor over-  
ruled him. They were making too much money."  
  
Martha laughed. "Serves him right," she said. She turned   
to Lois. "I haven't had a chance, with everything going on   
the way it has, to tell you how happy I am about your   
engagement, Lois. Do you know how long my son has been in   
love with you?"  
  
Lois could feel herself blushing again. "Now I do."  
  
"I always wanted a daughter," Martha said. "Now it looks   
as if I'm finally going to get my wish."  
  
Jonathan was smiling at her, too. Lois touched the ring on   
her finger very gently. "Thank you--both of you. I only   
hope I can make him happy."  
  
"You already have," Jonathan said, unexpectedly. "Welcome   
to the family, Lois."  
  
Lois blinked away tears for the second time that evening.   
Suddenly, she realized that the strains of "Fly Me to the   
Moon" had begun to play. Clark bowed to her. "Since you   
weren't able to at the party, would you care to dance, Ms.   
Lane?"  
  
She nodded. Clark slipped his arm around her waist and she   
felt her feet lifting from the floor. Martha turned to her   
husband. "Jonathan?"  
  
"Now, Martha, you know I don't dance very well--oh, all   
right."  
  
Lois looked down. Almost directly below them, Jonathan and   
Martha were moving slowly in time to the music. She looked   
back at Clark to see that his face was within inches of   
hers and he was smiling at her. She smiled back, but   
neither of them said a word.  
  
The End   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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